Wraith
by chatnoir
Summary: SV Is Vaughn haunting Sydney after he dies? preThe Telling, post Phase One
1. prologue & chapter 1

Title- Wraith  
Author- chatnoir  
Summary- Is Vaughn haunting Sydney after his death?  
Category- S/V, angst   
Rating - PG13-R  
Disclaimer- not mine, never has been mine, never will be mine sadly enough.  
Distribution: SD-1, ff.net, others: please ask

  
A/N: thanks to **rin**, **angelbleu**, **susan, mj** for betaing it.

This was written in April 2003… so… it's a bit dated… and this is a re-post… I finally understand ff.net's upload directions. Thanks, **Gabs**!  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
Sydney Bristow stared at her reflection in the mirror. To the casual eye, she looked normal: brown haired, tall, thin. However, she looked closer at her appearance today. She saw that her hair lacked its normal luster, and she realized that she's gradually lost a lot of weight in the past year. Many people said that she's begun to slouch whenever she sat down, and that her manner had changed considerably. She's heard them say that she's become glacial, distant, dead. But what they don't understand is that she is dead. Dead in soul, spirit, life. She no longer wanted to be physically trapped in this world. She longed to go back into her bed, crawl under the cold covers, and waste away. Especially today. August 3. It's been one year. To the hour. In a couple of minutes, it would be the exact time since he left her.  
  
She took the engagement ring off her necklace and slid it on her right ring finger. Today she wasn't going hide it. Today she was going to honor him. Today she was going to visit his grave for the first time since she died along with him. She was determined to tell him to stop haunting her because she was going to see him again. Very soon.  


A/N: fragments are intentional. (yes... syntax and all... but oh well...) thanks to **angelbleu** and **susan**. **susan**~ thanks so much for the grammar corrections! thank you, thank you, thank you! The Great Gatsby isn't mine. It's a great book by F. Scott Fitzgerald  
  
Chapter 1  
  
One year earlier: August 3, 2004  
Barcelona, Spain  
4:30 pm   
  
Sydney was lying on the hotel room bed pondering over her life. SD-6 was gone, and it seemed like a lifetime ago that she had been a double agent. No more lies to tell Marshall and Dixon. She always told them the truth now. She had graduated with her masters in English a year ago. The continuing hope that one day she would become an English teacher. A dream for the future.  
  
Every day seemed so much more stress free, especially with Vaughn around. He was always there with her, at work and at home. Their home. She had moved out of her apartment with Francie almost three months prior. Now Vaughn and she owned their own house. Not an apartment. A house. She had the suspicion that he was going to propose soon. Very soon. And so her life was the epitome of perfect.  
  
Almost too perfect.   
  
Which led to the nightmares at night. They were horrific sketches of the future. Always ending with her happy life destroyed, with Vaughn dead. There was always blood. Gallons of blood. The sticky scarlet red leaking from a hole in his head, staining the carpet. His face was an expression of shock, his green eyes clouded over. And then depending on which dream it was, it would be her father, her mother, or she that pulled the trigger. What an irony it was.  
  
A ringing in the background disturbed her train of thought. "Hello?"  
  
"Sydney, why don't we go out tonight?" the voice over the phone asked seductively.  
  
"Vaughn! We have a mission to complete tomorrow. And sleep is necessary, like you so kindly reminded me last night. We can't stay up till 2am like we have been doing this entire week."  
  
"You know you want to," he averred in a breathy whisper.  
  
Sydney smiled. In her imagination, she could see his eyes coruscating with mischief, his mouth drawn in a smirk. There was no way she could ever say "no" to him. Never ever.  
  
"Okay," she replied, feeling herself blush.   
  
"Great. I'll see you downstairs at six then?" she could hear him smiling. His large grin that he saved for her. And only her.  
  
"Yeah. I'll see you then."  
  
"Oh, and Sydney? Wear the cream colored dress if you brought it." Her face burned, the blush turned into a darker shade of pink. _He looked into my suitcase!_  
  
"Anything else do you want?" she bantered.  
  
"Hmm… how about the diamond studs I gave you for your birthday?"  
  
"Yes sir! Anything else?"  
  
"Yes. One more thing. You."  
  
And with that reply, she laughed. A true laugh filled with happiness. A laugh that had become all the more frequent within the past year.  
  
"I'll see you at six then. I love you." She loved saying those three simple words. How could three little words convey so much emotion? It was just not possible. The mere concept still threw her off. Every time she said those words, she felt a rush of sentiment go through her body. Happiness, awe, affection. Warmth, desire, bliss. But most of all, love. It was an almost overwhelming love that made her dizzy.  
  
"Bye. I love you too." And every time he said those three words, she fell in love with him all over again. They were a pair that was meant to last.   
  
She put the receiver back onto the holder.   
  
She thought over the conversation. Something was wrong with it. Something just didn't fit in there.   
  
Then it struck her.   
  
He had said "bye". It had always been, "See you when you get back," or "Be careful." But never "bye." Never. And the way he had said it was so gloomy, so final, leaning towards ominous. But it wasn't possible. He wasn't going anywhere. He had promised. And so she pushed the thought out, disregarded it as a simple slip of the tongue.  
  
She stayed on the bed for a little while longer, trying to read her book. The Great Gatsby. It was one of her favorite books. One so simple on the outside, but so intricately put together. The symbolism so deep and foreboding. Carefully put together after a period of 10 years. The author died thinking he was a failure. That thought had always bothered her. Would she also die a failure? Would she ever capture Sark, Sloane, and her mother? Would her years of work never prove fruitful?   
  
Sighing, she turned to see what time it was. 5:26. She had a little less than 35 minutes to get ready. Her years of covert training have taught her how to shower, dress, and put on make up swiftly. She really didn't need the 35 minutes; 20 minutes would have been sufficient. However, she wanted to look special for Vaughn tonight. She was going to wear the dress and the earrings that he wanted. She was going to put her hair up in a French twist that she knew he secretly loved. She was going to…  
  
All thoughts of planning stopped when she heard a gun go off, too close for comfort. The bullet, whizzing; its sound amplified by the sudden silence. It found its target, resulting in a soft grunt. Then the unmistakable sound of a body landing on the floor.  
  
All time froze at 5:28.  
  
Her heart halted.  
  
_NO. No. Nonononononononono._ As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew the truth before she even got through the connecting door. She had felt a glacial hand reach into her and pull her soul out. She felt vacant, numb, dead.   
  
And then she saw the blood seeping into the carpet and crawling, covering more area. The gallons of blood she saw in her dream. _Am I living my dream?_  
  
She became calm. The type of calm that begs the question, "Why am I so calm? Because it doesn't make any sense. I'm supposed to be hysterical, sobbing, screaming at the world."   
  
But she was calm. Her brain had shut down. She couldn't think.   
  
But then, beyond the blood, she saw the body. His face was a picture of surprise. He was wearing a blue oxford shirt and khakis that would have matched her dress. She touched his visage. "Vaughn, wake up! You promised you wouldn't be going anywhere. Wake up. Please," she pleaded softly. She knew that it had been an instantaneous death. There was no hope. None.  
  
He was still warm, but the temperature was fading fast. There was no bullet wound in his forehead, but in his heart. It had broken his heart.   
  
"Sydney Bristow. Do not mess in games that you do not understand." The voice was so familiar.   
  
Anna. She looked behind her into deep brown death filled eyes. But she had no strength left to fight.  
  
"Kill me too. If you take him away, what's left? Kill me too. Please."  
  
"And what's the fun in that? Just think of this as a lifelong torture." Anna's voice had always been like a snake, slippery and deadly.   
  
Sydney stayed silent, looking at Vaughn. He was still beautiful. Always beautiful.  
  
"Oh, and by the way, I believe he was going to propose tonight?" And with that, Anna left.  
  
_Oh my god. He was going to propose tonight at dinner. He was going to propose tonight. Hewasgoingtopropose._ There was no glimmer of hope anymore. Nothing that showed the future would be okay. _Nothing. Was. Going. To. Be. Okay. Ever. Again._  
  
She saw the black velvet box in Vaughn's left hand. She took it out of his hand, and opened it. The ring was absolutely beautiful. The small single diamond shown with a brilliance that left her breathless. _He knew my style; he knew that I like to keep things simple. He'll never put this ring on my finger. Never._ She took the ring out of the box.   
  
Inscribed inside were the words, "Pour mon ange, mon amour."  
  
With those few words, the words that he said to her at night, right before they drifted off to sleep, she put her head on his torso. He was cold. He used to be warm, so warm. Then she cried tears of blood. Her love of her life was gone. She was an empty shell. Torture for an eternity. 


	2. chapter 2

A/N: I guess I'll be posting a chapter everyday… or I guess I can withhold chapters until I get reviews… but I don't think I want to be that mean ;)

Thank you to **valley-girl2** and **PsychoLioness13** for reviewing!

thank you to **susan**~ grammar queen! and **angelbleu**~ for checking the flow! 

**__**

A few bad words in this one….

  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
November 15, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
8:16 am  
  
_If only I had eaten more. If only I hadn't let my tears fall so much. If only I had gone to his funeral. If only I hadn't drunk so much beer, wine, hard liquor. If only I hadn't started smoking. If only I took care of myself. If only I hadn't taken so many suicide missions that never ended with the desired result. If only he had lived. If only I had died with him. If only we didn't go to Spain. If only we didn't decide to pursue our relationship. If only we'd never met. If only I'd never decided to join the CIA. If only…   
  
Goddamn it.   
  
Goddamn it all to hell. These ridiculous "if onlys" will never blot out the fact. They never will.   
  
I want it back. I want it back, right here in me! I want it f***ing back in me!  
  
If only… if only I had done those if onlys. Then maybe, maybe I wouldn't have killed it. It was meant as a gift. A gift I couldn't keep alive. A gift that I murdered, just as its father was murdered.  
  
I want my baby back in me. My one last reminder of Vaughn. Of Michael. Now I don't even have it. Would it have been a girl or boy? Green eyes or brown eyes? Blondish brown hair or chocolate hair? A love for hockey or literature?  
  
But I will never know.  
  
Why can't I die? I've killed my family. Something won't let me die. But I want to. Je veux. I want. It's my desire. Je desire. I desire. It's my wish. Je souhaite. I wish. There is nothing left to live for._  
  
Sydney lay in bed, staring out the small window, tears staining the pillow. The hospital bed was stiff, rough on her skin. She didn't want the IV connected to the inside of her wrist. She'd already tried pulling it out. The room was a blazing white, blinding the eyes. A sure sign of sterility. But all she wanted was poison.   
  
_To hell with that thought. I am poison!_   
  
The baby had not been able to survive. She had had a miscarriage. She hadn't known she was pregnant. She hadn't. The doctors had told her that she had been four months along. Four f***ing months and she hadn't known.  
  
It had her last mission. She had been kicked in the stomach. Hard. Hard enough to kill the baby. If it had not been dead already. It had been a mission, not exactly a suicide mission though. She was the one that made it a suicide mission.   
  
Her father had told Kendall that she would be able to do it. He said that she would be able to pick up and go. Just like after Danny died.   
  
But not this time. Not with Vaughn. She was too far in love. And she still was. She couldn't pick up and go. She just couldn't. She hadn't even been able to go visit his grave; she hadn't gone to his funeral. She had just wanted to die on that mission. Completely fade away. A one way trip to the plot next to Vaughn's grave.   
  
But she hadn't. Instead, the baby had to pay with its life.  
  
She rocked on the edge of her sanity. Just one more of anything could potentially push her over. She was a tightrope walker losing her balance.   
  
She looked out the window ninety percent of the time. Just viewing the scenery. Letting her mind drift towards suicidal thoughts. Knife, gun, pills, water. Water… water always led to thoughts of Vaughn--Always Vaughn, never Michael-- behind the metal door with the small circular window in Taipei. Gun…guns led to thoughts of Vaughn on the ground in the small Spanish hotel room. Always graceful. In the face of death and in death, he was always graceful.   
  
Graceful…   
  
The word always led back to the ring. The gorgeous white gold ring that he had not been able to give her, had not presented to her, had not placed on her finger. It had never been put on her finger. She had not even dared. She didn't feel worthy. And so the ring was looped on a fine chain around her neck. No one knew about it, except for Anna, but she was dead now. However, she did suspect that Weiss knew that Vaughn was going to propose to her in Spain. He never mentioned it, but there was always that encompassing feeling that he knew. _Those two were the closest of friends, so he probably did know,_ her mind kept screaming at her. Otherwise, it was the most treasured secret she held.   
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by Weiss' thunderous entrance. He hit the door with a loud "thud," which led to several attempts at opening the door handle. Then the sound of several fallen objects could be heard.  
  
_Is he drunk?_  
  
"Weiss, what are you doing here?" she said by way of greeting. She was too tired to care about anything anymore. _No, he isn't drunk… He doesn't smell like alcohol. He's just holding too many things in his hands. Flowers, car keys, yoyo, magazine, radio, CDs, books…_  
  
"Good morning to you too. You want to hear a joke?" Weiss had been telling more bad jokes lately that just fell flat. She figured that it was his way of coping with Vaughn's death. "Doesn't matter, you're gonna hear it anyways. What goes bzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzb?"  
  
Silence. She just continued staring at him.  
  
"Syd, are you even going to try?"  
  
More silence.  
  
Weiss sighed. It wasn't working. The stormy look on her face hadn't disappeared. He didn't even bother telling her that she looked horrible. She was awfully pale, almost a transparent white. She looked sickly, gaunt. "Well, the answer was a bee on a yoyo, and as for what I'm doing here, I was just called by your father and he said that you were in the hospital. What happened?"   
  
Dead silence was all he heard as Sydney's mind meandered.   
  
"Sydney?"  
  
"I lost it."  
  
"What do you mean by you 'lost it?' Crying doesn't send you to a hospital. A mental breakdown doesn't send you to a hospital. It sends you to a psych ward though, and you aren't in the psych ward…"  
  
"I lost the baby."  
  
"What baby?" Weiss questioned, obviously confused.  
  
"I was pregnant with Vaughn's baby."  
  
The rain that had been threatening to fall for some time finally fell.   
  
"HOLY SH*T! Sydney, you were pregnant and you didn't even feel the need to tell anyone?!?!? Sh*t."  
  
"I didn't know." Her muttering was drenched in crystalline tears. Weiss could hardly understand her words.  
  
Weiss just stayed there with her until she finished sobbing. _Why can't I die? I just want to die. I want Vaughn with me. Weiss is such a great friend, but I want, desire, wish for Vaughn. Je veux. Je desire. Je souhaite…_  
  
When her tears finally subsided, he asked, "How long are you going to stay here?"  
  
"The doctor recommended that I stay here for the rest of the week. He says that I lost too much blood and that I'm severely malnourished."  
  
"Sydney, what did I tell you about eating? You need to keep up your strength. Vaughn wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."  
  
_Another reminder of Vaughn. I never thought he would be used as a tool against me._  
  
She finally wanted to satisfy her curiosity. "Weiss, why'd you bring over a radio?"  
  
"I though you'd might want to listen to some music."  
  
"Weiss… you can't bring a radio into a hospital room."  
  
"I know, I know. The frequencies will mess up the medical equipment. That's why I brought you some CDs. I didn't know what type of music you like to listen to, so I took the liberty of going into your house and grabbing some. I also brought you a magazine and some books for you to read."  
  
"Thank you, Weiss." She was truly thankful for him to think so much about her well-being. "And thank you for the flowers."   
  
The flowers were a fix of lilies and roses. But Weiss didn't know that they were memories. Memories that have come to haunt her. _Lilies for my birthday. Roses for Valentine's Day. A mixture of both on our anniversary day, the day when we started dating. I love you so much Vaughn._  
  
"Actually, these flowers aren't from me, Sydney." That caught her attention.   
  
"What?" _Oh my god._  
  
"They aren't from me. The nurse at the nurse's station wanted me to give these to you. She said someone left them there. She was just about to take them to you, but she soon realized that I was going to come visit you."  
  
"So you don't know who these are from?" Sydney asked in surprise and in horror. _Someone knows about the significance of these flowers. Someone knows._  
  
"Well, there's a card attached to it." Weiss supplied helpfully.  
  
Sydney reached for the card made of cloth. _Cloth made writing untraceable. A graphologist would never be able to identify who wrote it. No pressure points. _There was no signature on the inside and the writing was all in caps. _All caps. Another way it wouldn't be traceable._ When she finally read the inside of the card, and when she did, she wished she didn't. She was in shock. Pure shock.  
  
_Pour mon ange, mon amour. I do not blame you. Don't cry. Je t'aime. Toujours._  
  
~tbc~  


  
french translations:  
Je veux: I want  
Je desire: I desire  
Je souhaite: I wish  
Pour mon ange, mon amour: For my angel, my love  
Je t'aime: I love you  
Toujours: Always 


	3. chapter 3

A/N: A HUGE thanks to **susan** for editing it like crazy and trying to dig into my brain to figure out what I wrote. And a huge thanks to **angelbleu** for helping me with the flow, correctness, and the amazing encouragement.   
  
Sorry if this is bad. It's short I know. It's a filler. And if it sounds funky, it probably is because there are tense switches. Susan did an fantastic job of trying to edit it out though.   
  
Thank you to:

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nattie700: err… well… from what I've been told, people do think that it has a happy ending. But no promises along the way… ;) don't worry… I'm a diehard SV shipper

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Brynne: I can't say who wrote the card, sorry. It'd give it all away. 

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leo's l'il sista: I update everyday :) please tell me what you've written I'll I'll go read!

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liz: well I guess you'll find out with this update ;)

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valley-girl2: hehe… well… I only posted the first 6 chapters on ff.net so you couldn't have read far… you'll soon read the stuff you haven't read! Thanks for continuing :)

  


  
Chapter 3  
  
December 18, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's house  
6:47 PM PST  
  
One month had passed before Sydney fully recovered from her hospital stay. The message on the vase still haunted her. _Pour mon ange, mon amour. I do not blame you. Don't cry. Je t'aime. Toujours._ She had sent the silk missive to the CIA forensics lab. Like she had predicted, there had been no usable fingerprints—they had all been smeared. There had been no usable DNA strands either—they had been hers and Weiss'. The identity of the person was still officially unknown. Unofficially however, in her dead heart, she knew it was he. He: her love, her guardian angel, her eternity. Her life.   
  
Her dreams were filled with a masked man suffocating her with his memory. _The loving kisses, the lazy mornings, hockey, Russian literature, the long conversations in bed, his blue boxers, his soulful glances, his obsession with my nose…_ The never-ending cycle of thoughts, all centered on him.   
  
_Je veux._  
  
And love. A love that was supposed to last a lifetime, but never stood the chance. Instead, it had only been enjoyed for a year.  
  
_Je désire._  
  
And a child. A child that would have been loved and cherished. _Maybe if the baby had lived, I could survive… but not now… not anymore._ There would be no more in the future. That had been her last chance. And now it was gone… _It was all my fault. No matter what anyone says. It was my fault._  
  
_Je souhaite._  
  
The month had almost pulled her until she was teetering on the edge. She had cried every hour that she had been awake. _Oh Vaughn, are you still alive? But I saw you dead! I swear I did… the blood. All that blood… I love you… _When the tears had refused to shed and only dry hiccups had remained, all she had been able to do was cry. No tears did not equal no crying, unlike what she had thought before. All there needed to be was a resounding sorrow, a dead heart, and a wailing anamnesis. The misery that she had felt plunged into her depths like a cold murderous knife.  
  
_Toujours._  
  
Her house had been drenched with a blinding darkness ever since she'd left for the hospital. It had been a month since she'd stepped inside her house. The happiness that had once dwelled there flew out long ago. All that had been left was anguish. A layer of dust had coated the picture frames and tabletops, obscuring the reflections. _Another memory of him. The silver antique picture frame he gave me. Always treasured._ The frame contained their first picture together; it was one that Weiss had taken. They were holding hands, but distracted. They were lost in their own little world full of magic and love. In a time when life had been kind and generous. She was staring into his eyes, and he was reciprocating. The background was of a gracefully calm clear lake.  
  
_Je t'aime._  
  
She walked around the house, relearning all its hidden places and details.  
  
The once warm blankets of their bed turned frigid with the absence of his body heat. The satin sheets gave no comfort for they turned callous. The kitchen had piles of dishes filled with carbon. His presence as a cook also disappeared. The living room couch, where they had loved, gave an ambiance of loneliness.   
  
_Où êtes-vous?_  
  
Her mind was reeling. _There are too many memories in this house. But I don't want to leave it. All the good memories are here. This is the home we started to create together. This is where we loved each other. But in the end, is this home without him? In his arms is where I felt safe. In his eyes is where I felt safe. In his proximity is where I felt safe. So is he my home? Then I have no home. I have no safe place. I took it all away… It was all my fault._  
  
And the tears started again. Tears that were lacking. Tears that were not real tears at all. But blood. Her blood, his blood, mingled together. Trailing down her cheek together. Always together. Always each other's allies. Always partners, in everything.  
  
But she was still empty.  
  
~*~*~  
  
December 19, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's house  
5:18 am  
  
Hidden in the shadows of the bedroom, a wraith sat. Almost transparent, but unable to be detected in the dark. An array of words spilling out onto a sheet of paper from an old Kings pen. Writing.  
  
The letter was finished.  
  
The wraith brought the letter to the pillow next to where his love lay dying. Dying from a broken heart. Two droplets rained from each eye landing on her dull hair. A quiet whisper rose as he stroked her cheek. _Je t'aime._  
  
And on top of the letter, two flowers were set.  
  
A lily and a rose.  
  
Transparent, diaphanous. He disappeared.  
  
~tbc~


	4. chapter 4

A/N: thank you to **susan** for betaing. :)

Thank you to:

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leo's l'il sista: thank you! And I'll definitely look into your fics :) hehe… I like the title of the second one ;)

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Brynne: hehe… I can't say whether or not Vaughn is alive… I mean… by all means… he's dead … or is he? But then… didn't he die in that first chapter? Wasn't Sydney going to his grave a year later (in the prologue?) ? hehe… this story is primarily to provoke thought… and to become more… broad in ideas of beliefs… (I know I sound New Age, I'm not though). Où êtes-vous? Means "where are you?" just a little French lesson here: Où= where. "Vous êtes" is the plural form of "you are" for être, to be. The inversion of the verb and subject would result in a question ;) 

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valley-girl2: you have no idea how much I smile when I read your reviews ;) hehe… there's actually only 15 chapters to this story… + epilogue (once I get around to actually writing it)… lol… of course I'll update it everyday… this is my one almost-completed work! :) guys that cook… I wish that really happened in my life ;) enjoy this chapter!

  
**I know this sounds crazy… but please also read my other work! **Okay… stopping my pleading now…

  
Chapter 4  
  
December 19, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's house  
9:46 AM  
  
Sydney let her eyes slowly peel open. Her eyelashes had crusted over with residue from her tears. She'd woken up two-and-a-half-hours earlier. Just lying there staring at the flowers and letter. It had been a horrible morning so far. _Someone has been inside my house. Someone has been close. So close that he or she was able to place the flowers just inches away. Someone who signed it as "Your Guardian Angel." Someone so much like Vaughn. Writing sweet nothings, memories, love letters. But it couldn't be Vaughn… he is dead. Dead… leaving me nothing._   
  
She clutched at her ring hanging from the chain clasped securely around her neck.  
  
_Je veux._  
  
She wanted to close her eyes again and let the darkness seize her. Capture her until she could no longer breathe light. Only darkness. Instead, she closed her eyes and regulated her respiratory pattern. Slowing down. Her breathing was decelerating, making the heartbeat just a bit slower. Calming herself so that she could open the letter, read it, and not become hysterical. She started to reach for the letter. Every centimeter crossed felt like a year passing by.   
  
_Je désire._  
  
She grabbed the corner of the white sheet and brought it closer to her body. She prepared herself for the tears that she knew would come.   
  
_Je souhaite._  
  
She opened the folded sheet and started to read.  
  
_Mon ange, mon amour,  
  
Always remember—_  
  
And then the telephone rang. It was an ominous sound, echoing in the corners of the bedroom. She dragged herself out of bed and walked across the room to the telephone. Picking up the receiver, she answered with a "hello?"  
  
"Sydney? This is Weiss. We need you down here at the Task Force building."  
  
"Why? Can't it wait? I only got back yesterday."  
  
Silence was all that she heard. Only embellished by a punctuated sigh from Weiss a few seconds later.  
  
"I didn't want to say this over the phone…"  
  
"Why not?" Her voice was taking on a hopeful quality. Too hopeful for Weiss' liking, knowing that danger and heartache was only going to ensue later.  
  
"We have Sark."  
  
A telephone receiver fell to the ground.  
  
_J'espère._  
  
~*~*~  
  
December 19, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
Joint Task Force Building  
10:59 AM  
  
Sydney all but ran into the main room of the building. It looked the same as it always had. Surveillance equipment and video was up and running. The many desks placed there were littered with paperwork that still needed to be completed.   
  
She spotted a bald head glaring off light. And right next to him stood Weiss and Jack.  
  
"Where is he? Where is Sark?" she demanded when she arrived at where the group was stationed.  
  
"He's dead," Jack replied solemnly.  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"It was suicide."  
  
"How? Aren't you supposed to be watching them?" she pressed.  
  
"He had a cyanide capsule. We didn't realize it was located on his back molar. It was small. The smallest I've ever seen. But it was concentrated, really pure, 10 molar pure. Killed him instantly," her father said, shaking his head.  
  
"Doesn't matter anymore. He gave us all the information we needed. He would have been dead before the day was over anyhow," Kendall interjected.  
  
Sydney was getting confused. "Why would Sark wait long enough to give us all the information we need? Why not kill himself right when we caught him?"  
  
"We pumped him full of a truth serum similar to LSD right when we caught him. He was too delirious and too occupied with spitting out information to set the capsule correctly," Weiss answered. "He only killed himself later in his holding cell when the truth serum denatured. Although, something kind of weird happened with the body after the death. It's mangled."  
  
"Mangled?"  
  
"Well, it seems as if the truth serum and the cyanide he used didn't work well together. The serum must have catalyzed a sort of chemical reaction in his body. But it doesn't matter anymore. He's been buried."  
  
_He was partly responsible for Vaughn's death. He was the one who contacted Anna. One down, two to go._  
  
"What information did he give us?"  
  
"We know where Irina and Sloane are," Kendall paused for a minute, uncertain about going on. He then carefully and hesitantly said, "He gloated about Agent Vaughn's death. How Anna was contacted. How she was paid. How she enjoyed it. He was talking about the baby too."   
  
_He probably was watching it eat away at me. He was probably laughing his head off watching me die. Don't feel. Don't feel. Don't think. Don't think. Just do._  
  
They were all staring at her. Wondering how she was going to react to the news. The world around her was becoming blurry. Dizzy. Tears were blinding her. No, not tears. Blood. Blood from Vaughn and her.   
  
_I'm so sorry Vaughn. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. It was all my fault. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…_  
  
~*~*~  
  
December 19, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's house  
4:03 PM  
  
Walking into the house was hard. Going through the hallway was like a long march to the scaffold. Finally in her bedroom, she lay down. _Is life really worth living? Is it? I don't want to live without him._  
  
She reached out for the rose and lily. They were shriveled up, desiccated. Dead.  
  
_The letter… Where is the letter?_  
  
Looking around the bedroom, turning up sheets, pillows, the mattress. She couldn't find it.  
  
It had disappeared.  
  
_Je veux. Je désire. Je souhaite. J'espère_.


	5. chapter 5

A/N: thanks to the wonderful grammar queen, **susan**, once again. And thanks to **kenzi** for the English translation

  
Thank you to:

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nattie700: hmm… seems like I might have missed you yesterday… I wonder how I managed that! Of course the S/V love is true and it never will end! Keep the faith. JJ even wrote, "Fear not!" Hehe… season 3 fics are angsty on purpose… I mean, you can't really make a fluffy piece when the happenings on TV aren't happy… lol… denial… such a great invention ;) thanks for reviewing and sorry that I left you out last time…

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PsychoLioness13: of course there will be more ;)

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valley-girl2: lol… reviews are such great things ;) fic is too. Hehe… don't you think it's suspicious that sark is dead all of a sudden? ::hint hint:: waking up after crying… ugh… the stinging sensation in the eyes… :( not fun stuff. You have no idea how much I enjoy hating Sark… 

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leo's l'il sista: (wow… Microsoft Word has finally stopped recognizing your name as a spelling error! :) ) I'm getting there with the fics ;) hehe… I have an entire list set out of what I need to catch up on. 

Hopefully I'm not missing people this time… ::worried::

  
  
Chapter 5  
  
December 25, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's House  
4:47am  
  
A wraith sat next to the bed, watching his angel sleep. The brightness of the moon shining its pale light created a holy glow around her sleeping form. Bringing his hand up, he sees the light pass through it. Silently, tears dropped down his cheeks, cascading onto a long stemmed rose.   
  
A scarlet rose. Blood red. Releasing a sweetness, a tenderness. The powerful scent scattered all around the room. A love blooming once more. More fragile. More delicate. He was more in love with her then ever before.   
  
He watched her chest rise up and down, carrying the oxygen of life, replenishing her tired body. Making her awake once more when the sun rises.  
  
He swept a strand of hair away from her face and placed a light kiss on her forehead. He missed her so much. So much. He would trade anything to have one more moment with her. Just one more moment. A moment when he could tell her that he loved her more than life itself. He would tell her to keep living. Be happy. And find someone she could be joyous with. And most of all, he would tell her that he could never blame her. That none of this was her fault. He loved her too much to let her lie to herself. He loved her too much to watch her cry at night. He just loved her too much.  
  
_Je veux._  
  
He reached out for the ring on the chain. He had watched over her. Like the guardian angel he had promised to be. The ring had never left the chain around her neck. Not for even a moment. But he wanted her to be happy.   
  
_Je désire._  
  
He touched her cheek. Lightly, stroking softly. Then he positioned her head to the side so that he was able to reach the clasp behind her neck. He moved the chain so that the clasp was to the front and started to unclasp it.  
  
_Je souhaite._  
  
Then she woke up.   
  
_J'espère._  
  
Sydney looked as if she were about to faint. She turned paler than her normal self. A white sheet. Ghastly. Lying against the pillow, struggling to sit up.  
  
"Vaughn?"  
  
But he simply stared back at her. _I need to leave. She shouldn't see me. She needs to think this is all a dream._ But he wanted to touch her so much. He wanted to talk to her, to hug her. To love her all again.  
  
"Vaughn? Please say something! You're supposed to be dead. I saw you dead. I saw your body right after you were shot…" she begged. When she realized what she just said, she whispered, "You're supposed to be dead." She started shaking. Not understanding what was transpiring. "Vaughn? Is that you?"  
  
She was so confused, and so she started to cry. She was no longer strong. She had been destroyed. Destroyed, crushed, died. Died when he died.   
  
He couldn't help it. He couldn't watch her cry. He could never watch her cry. Every time she did so, his heart would shatter. He reached out for her. Felt her hand. Stepped closer, and pulled her into a hug. "Je t'aime. Toujours. Pour eternité," he whispered into her ear.  
  
It only made her cry harder. "I love you too."   
  
He set her on the bed, made her lie down.   
  
She suddenly took his hand and brought it over to her stomach region. "Vaughn, there was a baby in here. A baby. And I killed it. I'm so sorry."  
  
"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't. I still love you. None of it was your fault."  
  
They continued holding each other until she fell asleep. A comfortable expression on her face. One that he hadn't seen a while. Ever since he died… she had had nightmares. Long, horrible, blood filled dreams. Night terrors.   
  
He wanted to stay there, to always be with her. To watch her sleep. _Je veux._  
  
He desired to make her feel better. To love her. _Je désire._  
  
He wished he could make her realize that nothing was her fault. Nothing. _Je souhaite._  
  
He hoped that one day, he could stay forever. But the tugging in his heart was telling him to go. _J'espère._  
  
He murmured into her ear for one last time, "I love you so much. Merry Christmas."  
  
He disappeared in a blink of an eye. The cold room turning warm again.  
  
~*~*~  
  
December 25, 2004  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's House  
10:53am  
  
She woke up. Alone. _So it was all a dream._  
  
She reached for the pillow next to her. There was a letter. She read it, and smiled. _Pour mon ange, mon amour. Je t'aime. Pour eternité._ And next to it was the long stemmed rose. A tear had crystallized on the most inner petal.  
  
She took out a pen, and wrote a poem she had read a few days ago.   
  
_Pour Toi Mon Amour  
Par Jacques Prévert  
  
Je suis allé au marché aux oiseaux  
Et j'ai acheté des oiseaux  
Pour toi  
Mon amour  
Je suis allé au marché aux fleurs  
Et j'ai acheté des fleurs  
Pour toi  
Mon amour  
Je suis allé au marché à la ferraille  
Et j'ai acheté des chaînes  
De lourdes chaînes  
Pour toi  
Mon amour  
Et puis je suis allé au marché aux esclaves  
Et je t'ai cherchée  
Mais je ne t'ai pas trouvée  
Mon amour._  
  
She hoped he would come back soon. 

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English translation of the poem

For you, my love   
I went to a bird market  
And I bought a bird  
For you  
My love  
I went to a flower market  
And I bought a flower  
For you  
My love  
I went to a junk market  
And I bought a chain  
A heavy chain  
For you  
My love  
And I went to a slave market  
And I searched for you  
But I couldn't find you anywhere  
My love


	6. chapter 6

A/N: thanks for waiting so long for an update. thanks to **angel** and **rin** for betaing.

Thank you to:

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S@nd: lol… I'm addicted to Prevert's poems! I first started with (and since I can't remember the title right now… I'll start with the stanza) "deux et deux quatre, quatre et quatre seize, repetez dit le maitre…." Hehe… what fun! Me, speak French?! Err… no. I had a really really strict French teacher freshman and sophomore year in high school, but it was my junior high school French teacher who got me hooked on Prevert… and actually, yes I did know you were French because I've been reading your fic ;) and just haven't reviewed… ::starts whistling:: hehe. Thanks for reading!

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valley-girl2 (for 2!): lol… I was dead tired yesterday too… which is why this fic is probably going to up later than usual (it's currently 6:36 in the morning and I usually upload it at midnight…) hehe… you know what? I actually don't remember what I wrote… maybe one day, I'll go back and reread it all… ;) nap time? Sorry it made you tired… I can definitely tell you that getting tired has never been a symptom of this fic before. And thanks for the 2nd review as well!

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Brynne: well… he could be there as a ghost right? Because the title of this fic is "wraith" which means phantom or ghost… lol, French is a great language to learn, ya just have to embrace all those… tenses… and not want to beat your teacher over the head with a stick ;) 

  
  
Chapter 6  
  
February 14, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Ops Center  
7:43 am  
  
Sydney had had a horrible night. She had not been able to really sleep, but rather, just drift. And when she did drift, there was one image that was continuously suspended in her mind. The same one every time she closed her eyes. It was of a darkened angel, always in the shadows, surrounded by fog. She had never been able to see its face nor distinguish which gender it was.   
  
"Hey, Sydney, wait up!"  
  
"Good morning, Weiss. How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm okay actually. I just dropped by to tell you that there is a meeting in…" his voice dragging the syllable out as he checked his watch for the time. "In 15 minutes."  
  
"Oh okay. I'll be there soon. I just needed to grab a cup of coffee."  
  
"Before you go again… Sydney… I know this is something that you really want to do, but are you sure you want to go back to field duty?"  
  
Her knuckles were white as she clenched the surface of her desk. She took a deep breath. "Weiss, this is something I need to do. I need to keep my mind off… Vaughn…" She sometimes still had problems speaking his name. The sounds always got lodged in her throat. "I can't continue thinking about him day and night anymore. I still have responsibilities in this life."  
  
There was a moment of awkward silence.   
  
Seeing that Sydney was getting uncomfortable with the situation, Weiss steered the conversation to a safer topic. "Ya wanna here this new joke I got over the internet?"  
  
"Weiss… not now… please."  
  
He didn't understand why she was still in such a depression. He was already over Vaughn's death, as hard as it was to pick up and move on after losing his best friend. Sure, they had been serious, but it wasn't as if he had proposed to her yet… although he knew that Vaughn was going to before he died. Ever since Vaughn died, Sydney had been acting oddly. Everyone knew, it was no secret. On some days, she was depressed, immersed in her despair. And yet, sometimes she would be joyful and happy. Her mood swings were never predictable. They were sporadic, never following a definite pattern.   
  
It was queer though. She had been able to compartmentalize after Danny's death, pack up, and move on within a matter of months. Vaughn on the other hand… she was still hanging on to him… as if one day he would come back and take her away. She had to realize that Vaughn was not going to come back. He was going to make her understand. If only for her sanity. His mind was going in different directions, trying to come up with a plan to make her see the reality.  
  
"Oh, I forgot! Sarah and I were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner tonight…" Sydney glanced down and saw the new wedding ring on his finger. They had been married for less than a month and he was clearly enjoying the married life. It reminded her of her own ring tucked under her shirt. She caught her attention veering and tuned back in to hear Weiss say, "…just a dinner between friends; today being Valentine's Day and all…we didn't want you to be alone."  
  
Sydney had completely forgotten. _February 14. Valentine's Day. Roses. A dozen. It had always been a dozen._   
  
"Sydney? Hello?"  
  
Except Sydney was already in a dreamland all her own. Surrounded by good memories and bad. All swirling together, and then crashing down.  
  
_Je t'aime toujours. Je veux. Je désire. Je souhaite. J'espère. Vous êtes mon ange, mon amour pour eternité. _  
  
She was forgetting what his face looked like when he said those words of endearment to her. She was forgetting his voice when he said those words. What she remembered was the feel of the happiness and love she felt whenever she saw him or was with him. And it was only then that she had ever been really happy. Truly happy. The memory of his bloody body was still fresh in her mind even after over half a year, carrying with it the reminder that she would never be happy again. Never happy to that degree again. Never to the edge of _parfait_ again.   
  
Tears flooded down her cheeks. Encompassing her life, drowning her.   
  
In the back of her mind, she could hear Weiss swearing. "I knew I shouldn't have brought it up. I knew it."  
  
She heard him flip open his cell phone. "Jack, this is Eric Weiss. You need to get here right away. Sydney…"   
  
And the rest was muffled as she caved into the comforting darkness.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Date: unknown.  
Place: unknown.  
Time: unknown.  
  
The darkness was shrouded with mystery. If she squinted enough, she could see the fog around her. And gradually, she was able to see clearer and clearer. She was in a dense forest, the foliage glazed over with moisture. _No, it's not moisture… it's ice… sleeted ice._ Even though she was beset by ice, she was warm. Not the tepidness that's produced by a heater; it was the type of warm induced by the sun- the carefree, happy, loving warmth.   
  
For the first time in a long time, she felt her body relax, giving into the hands of the light.   
  
Suddenly, she heard a voice. It was amplified as if over a loud speaker. One so familiar. One she thought she had forgotten.   
  
~*~*~  
  
February 14, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Hospital  
8:13 am  
  
"What did the doctors say?" Weiss looked at the shadow of a father, bent over his daughter, his strength ebbing away.   
  
"The doctors? They don't even know what the hell is wrong with her. There is nothing wrong with her!"  
  
They both stared at the body on the linen sheets.  
  
"She just needs to wake up."  
  
~*~*~  
  
Date: unknown  
Place: unknown  
Time: unknown  
  
_Sydney…_  
  
And she drew closer into the darkness. 


	7. chapter 7

a/n: thank you to **angelbleu** who betaed wonderfully. 

thank you to:

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valley-girl2: lol. I was jokin' around ;) I live for description actually, the "unknowns" were there because it needed to correlate with the other chapters/sections. Hehe… thanks for reading!

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Brynne: LOL! Nice summary… yup… you got it about right! DeadVaughn speaking is next up ;)

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nattie700: well, your review threw me off! And then I realized that you were still on chapter 5… Did you read chapter 6? It is beautiful in French… a bit sad however… hmm… did you ever watch the X-files? There was an entire ep on how temperatures drop when there's a ghost present… so yeah, I did take that idea from a X-files ep. Sigh… the good old days of pre-Telling Vaughn… ::eyes narrow:: you got the DVDs!!!!!!!!! Not fair! :P I don't even have the first one yet… waiting for birthday money… ;) lucky you. 

Sorry the replies are so short this time… I got to run… almost late for class!

  
  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Date: unknown.  
Place: unknown.  
Time: unknown.  
  
The sudden gust brought his voice even closer and stentorian. She could hear bits and pieces of what he was asserting.  
  
"NO! I will not do this to her… Let me make this clear… not …-ing to le-… her. I … er… I wi-"  
  
It was too hard to put together what he was saying, so she didn't even want to try to accomplish such a hopeless task.  
  
Then, only one thought occurred to her… she was in death, with Vaughn. But that couldn't be right. She clutched the ring around her neck even tighter. Where she was… was warm, welcoming, homely. There was nothing there that told her she was in death. It certainly was a possibility though-- one she enjoyed more than she wanted to admit. _If I am in death… Vaughn is waiting for me. He should be here._ But she didn't feel his presence. She heard him… but she couldn't sense him.  
  
She couldn't sense him. He wasn't really here… but where was here?   
  
It slowly dawned upon her.   
  
She was dancing in a long ago memory.   
  
She remembered that night… so clear now. It had crystallized in her subconscious, put away to be thought of for another day.  
  
_flashback  
  
Tossing over in bed, she languidly returned from the land of Nod only to realize why she couldn't sleep any longer.   
  
Vaughn was nowhere in sight.  
  
He wasn't next to her like he was only a few hours before. In fact, there was still a dent on his pillow where his head had been placed. She touched the mattress where his body was supposed to be. It was still warm. He had only been gone for a little while, she realized.   
  
She left the sweet confines of their bed and grabbed a robe to put over her nude body. She blushed, thinking about what they were doing only a few hours before falling asleep. Loving each other, in the most intimate of ways.  
  
She pulled the robe tighter around herself, warding away the early morning chills as she walked down the hallway of their house. Searching through every room, Sydney finally found him on the porch dressed in his own black robe.   
  
"NO! I will not do this to her… Are you hearing me loud and clear? Let me make this clear then. I am not going to leave her. Ever. I will never leave her. I love her too much. Aiden, do you hear me? I AM NOT GOING TO LEAVE HER."  
  
Aiden. Who was that? She hated him already.   
  
She could never stand it whenever Vaughn was angry. She wanted to calm him down, and rub out the wrinkles in his brow.   
  
Surreptitiously, she sneaked up to him. When she was finally close enough, she wrapped her arms around his middle. He reacted swiftly. Within moments, she was on the ground, his knee pressed against her stomach, a hand at poised at her throat. His CIA training had taken over.  
  
"Vaughn?" she cried out, surprised by his agility, accuracy, and precision.   
  
When he recognized her startled shout, he immediately scooped her up into a tight hug. His cell phone call forgotten.   
  
"What are you doing out here, Syd?" he whispered into her ear.   
  
"You weren't in bed… I came to find you."  
  
He kissed her head, her nose, then came to rest on her mouth. They stayed like that for a long time, the squawking from the cell phone lying on the ground, a long forgotten memory.   
  
end flashback_  
  
Eventually, they had gone to bed, but still… she had forgotten that incident. There must be a reason why her mind decided to remember it.   
  
But now she was stuck in this glass wonderland, the sleeted leaves casting a winter wonderland feel.   
  
There must be a way to turn back… there must be. And with that thought, a tear cascaded down her cheek. She closed her eyes.  
  
~*~*~  
  
February 17, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Hospital  
9:37 PM  
  
"Jack… I think she's waking up," Weiss said into his cell phone.  
  
"Okay, I'll be right there."  
  
With that, Weiss hung up.   
  
"Hey Sydney… wake up! Come on… wake up!"  
  
"Weiss… stop being so loud!" Sydney moaned.  
  
"So, the sleeping beauty finally decided to wake up."  
  
"Go away Weiss. Go away."  
  
"I wonder how Vaughn dealt with you in the—" when he comprehended what he was saying, he automatically shut up. He turned around to face Sydney again. She was glaring at him.  
  
Breaking the tense silence, she asked, "So, why am I in the hospital?"  
  
"You were "asleep," as the doctors called it, for three days! I'm so sorry I said those things in the op… I'm so sorry," Weiss' face was devastated.   
  
"It's okay Weiss. I'm fine now. In fact, I think something about that sleep let me clear my mind a little. I can't remember what it was… but… it helped a lot. I feel as if I can move on with my life now… It was as if Vaughn was trying to help me get past this rough spot."  
  
~*~*~  
  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's house  
6:11 am  
  
She had been slowly declining mentally as today neared. She felt him at every turn, at every moment of her life recently. He was close by, still not having released her from his clutches. She missed him. She wanted to be with him again.   
  
She felt his ghostly hands threading through her hair when she slept. She felt his breath at the nape of her neck when she sat on the couch watching TV or reading.  
  
Crawling out of bed today had been hard, but she knew what she had to do.  
  
[remember, this is from the prologue]  
  
_Sydney Bristow stared at her reflection in the mirror. To the casual eye, she looked normal: brown haired, tall, thin. However, she looked closer at her appearance today. She saw that her hair lacked its normal luster, and she realized that she's gradually lost a lot of weight in the past year. Many people said that she's begun to slouch whenever she sat down, and that her manner had changed considerably. She's heard them say that she's become glacial, distant, dead. But what they don't understand is that she is dead. Dead in soul, spirit, life. She no longer wanted to be physically trapped in this world. She longed to go back into her bed, crawl under the cold covers, and waste away. Especially today. August 3. It's been one year. To the hour. In a couple of minutes, it would be the exact time since he left her.  
  
She took the engagement ring off her necklace and slid it on her right ring finger. Today she wasn't going hide it. Today she was going to honor him. Today she was going to visit his grave for the first time since she died along with him. She was determined to tell him to stop haunting her because she was going to see him again. Very soon._  
  
~tbc~  
  
eta: you know what I _just _noticed? there's no French in this chapter! ::bangs head against desk:: oh well... too late... 


	8. chapter 8

a/n: thank you to **elektra** for an awesome betaing job. I asked at the last minute.. ohsolate at night... and she was willing... you rock dear! and I would also like to thank **demon**... she was always there on AIM listening to me beg and whine about this story and how my muse wasn't working... and **rin** for making me write too... and I would like to thank all the _loiterers_ (at sd-1) because they scared me into writing the next chapter you guys rock.   


Thank you to:

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Brynne: hmm… so Aiden is a popular name for Sark? I didn't know that… yes, the prologue ended the chapter. It's because chapter 1 went back an entire year to when it all began and then we continue on from there. Chapter 7 was the midpoint of the entire fic. So from chapters 7-15, we're going into what happened after the prologue… hopefully that makes sense… if not, go back and look at the time stamps… lol… I believe the prologue said that she was attempting to go to the grave but couldn't… but that might have been chapter 7… I can't remember what I wrote anymore ;) lol… chocolate… please share! 

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valley-girl2: lol! I think I'd love to sneak up on a spy and see what his/her reaction would be. Zero self control can be a bit bad ;) hehe… I think Vartan actually hates it when random people go up and touch him… so if you're looking to score points with him, I would lay off the touching. :P sorry this is late!

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nattie700: hehe… good to know! Hmm… I think I've heard about a reality show like that here in Cali too… yeah… post-Telling sure is depressing… ooh, don't worry about the hating Lauren, I already do. In fact… ::gets out a gun and shoots Lauren in the leg:: she's just too stupid for her own good… compared to syd that is ;) aww… I want season 1… I guess I'll just have to wait for my b-day… is Vaughn alive? But… how? I don't think so… hehe… confusion is good

well… I got to get going… concert time is in 15 minutes… and it takes 20 to drive there… oops ;) gah… wish me luck! Sorry this wasn't up earlier….

  
Chapter 8  
  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's house  
7:00 am  
  
There was nothing else to do. She had cleaned up the house last night, dusting away the powdered surfaces that had not been brushed for months… more like a year. It was perfect. Sparkling clean, just as if a "for sale" sign should be hanging in the front yard. Looking around the house for possibly the last time, she went to the antique pottery jar for her car keys.   
  
The white gold ring glittered in a stream of bright sunlight on her finger. A reminder of what had been. And what will never be. A reminder of the heart she lost, of a trail she never will walk. A reminder of a happiness that she will never experience again. Of that, she was sure.   
  
_Je veux what I never had.  
  
Je desire what should have been.  
  
Je souhaite for him to live again.  
  
J'espere for me to find him for the last time._  
  
Some people regarded her situation as a nasty bend in the road she has encountered. They thought she would live on, just like she did last time. They said that everyone met up with some type of bend, hers just being worse than usual. She knew it was not true. In her mind, there was a large yellow sign. A diamond. And in big, black, bolded, capitalized letters, it said "DEAD END." There was no way out. It was impossible to U-turn and drive back the way she came. There was no way to turn back time or to travel back in time. No matter how much she wanted to.  
  
Putting the car keys into the ignition, she started driving to a destination she had never been before.  
  
She was going to the cemetery.   
  
To a gravesite she had never been to and consequently didn't know where it was located.  
  
She had plenty of time to sort out how she felt today. Angry, sad, regret, happiness, joy. There were all there. Angry that he had left her there to live her life without him. Sad that he wasn't there with her, and that he had to die in such a horrible fashion. Regret, a major one—one that made adrenaline spill through her veins. Regret for the words unsaid and the actions that will never happen. Happiness for the hours, minutes, seconds, years that he's been by her side. Joy for the love that she still has for him. Joy because he had been her love, her only real love.  
  
He had been the only one to understand her. He had been the one who was there to save her soul. He had been there, through it all. He had been the one who had known the truth about her since the beginning. He had been the one who had stood by her side. He had been the one who had loved her for being who she was, the real Sydney Bristow. Not the agent, but the woman she had been.  
  
Past the early Wednesday rush hour traffic jam, which took two hours, she finally pulled up to rest at the cemetery gates.   
  
To be totally honest, she wasn't completely sure if she was ready to let him go. In letting him go, she would no longer feel his presence for the few remaining hours. In letting him go, she would no longer feel his hands thread through her hair, his lips at her nape, his breath on her cheek. She would no longer see him in the darkness, shrouded with mystery. She would no longer see his handwriting on a scrap of paper. She was going to miss him… miss being with him on Earth.  
  
Finally unlocking her seat belt, she stepped out of the car. Looking up at the sky in the process. It was typical LA in August weather. Bright sunny skies and not a cloud in sight. It wasn't fair. Clouds should've be covering every inch of the blue, not letting anything go through. There should have been pounding rain and flashes of lightning, and the deafening sound of roaring thunder. But nature was mocking her. Daring her to ruin its set cycle.   
  
She couldn't take it. She couldn't. And so her knees collapsed. There was no way she could say goodbye to him. She didn't want him to ever leave her. The months that he had stayed after he had died were both a torture and a guilty pleasure. The way that he wasn't really there killed her. But the secret pieces of paper that found its destination upon her nightstand only proved to her that he was her guardian angel. The love letters, the flowers, the moonlight talks. All were reminders. It reminded her that she loved him. As if every particle of her being, when with him, would bond together, not with an molecule or element, but with love.   
  
Love. As if love could torture someone. But it can… and she's learned it all too well.  
  
~*~*~  
  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's house  
1:34 PM  
  
She had no conscious memory of making it back home. She just remembered flopping onto the couch, key in hand as if she had just stepped through the door. The car, without a scratch, sitting in her driveway. Perhaps she had never even left the house. Maybe it had been her mind forming all these images and putting it in motion through her head.   
  
She knew now that there was no way she could survive without him. She had never been living this past year. She might have been moving, but she had not been living. It was better to be doing than to be dwelling in her mind.   
  
She had the perfect plan.  
  
"I do have the perfect plan, don't I?" Her own voice shocked her. She hadn't realized that she's started talking out loud. But it did fill a void that had been missing. It made her feel more secure in what she was about to do. She had nothing left to live for. There was nothing else. She had lost Vaughn. She had lost the baby. Sark was dead. Anna was dead. Sloane, she knew the CIA could handle. Weiss had his wife to care about. Marshall had Carrie to take care of him if he needed it. Will… she was sure would understand. Her father however, she wasn't sure. She didn't know if he could survive this, but she knew he would deduce her reason. There was nothing left…. Nothing. She was free to go.  
  
_I'm free._  
  
Without her knowledge, she was standing once again in front of the bathroom mirror. A mirror that was really a cabinet. A medicine cabinet.  
  
Her movements were systematic. Opening the cabinet. Taking out all the pill bottles within: Advil. Tylenol. Motrin. Valium. Ambient.   
  
Going to the kitchen cabinet, she looked through the bottles of liquor. Two of them caught her eye. Captain Morgan and Jack Daniels. She took out both bottles.   
  
_Perfect._  
  
She chose a champagne flute, delicate, innocent. Pouring in both drinks till it was almost full. Slowly, she dropped the ibuprofen, the acetaminophen, the pain drug, the sleeping drug. With each tablet that fell in, a droplet of the liquid would splash up onto the rim of the glass. With each tablet, she remembered another memory of them together. The CIA office where they met. The Ops center. The warehouse. The pier. The park. The observatory. Their house. She watched the tablets slowly turn back into powder. Dissolving in the thin liquid, making it thick. Twirling the mixture with her spoon, she watched the rise and fall of the particles. It was saturated. It was ready.   
  
Careful not to spill it, she walked into her bedroom. Their bedroom. Setting it down on the nightstand, she glided out again. She was unbelievable giddy. She just wanted to be with him again… and that was all that mattered. She was methodically taking down the pictures of them, carrying them back and placing them next to the nightstand and on the bed.   
  
Gently, she lowered herself until she was under the covers. Staring at the pictures, she started drinking her cocktail. The last thing she wanted to see were his piercing green eyes. Those were going to be the eyes she would wake up to in Death. They had to be.   
  
The glass was empty and so she set back down on the table.  
  
Whispering to the pictures, she said, "I hope you're waiting for me. It's working and I'll see you soon. I love you."  
  
~*~*~  
  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
2:06 PM  
  
Outside a pair of green eyes stared in through a window. Shocked and in horror, the owner of the eyes put his fist through the glass. He had to get to her.  
  
Before it was too late.   
  
~tbc~


	9. chapter 9

A/N: well.. here's the next chapter... and thanks to **demon** who forced me to write and for betaing.   
and... I kinda cheated... most of it is alias quotes... ;)   
  
Thank you to:

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valley-girl2: you know… what if I told you I was a guy… wouldn't that totally null the "Good Girl" comment? ;) JOKING! I'm a girl… hehe… sorry about the late uploading yesterday, I had a meeting that started at 11AM yesterday and I was up preparing it all night and all morning. And then, I had a concert… hehe… and then one after I uploaded… hehe… see, so you do not have zero self-control! You have lots more than thousands of his fans… I hope this update is on time! :)

sigh… more concerts and meetings today… wish me luck! And I'm missing alias tonight… :( gah!

  
  


  
Chapter 9  
  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
2:01 PM  
  
The man with deep emerald eyes had to stop her, before she stole the artifact. An artifact that was found in LA.   
  
It had been strange, however, being called back to his hometown. Sure, there had been times when he'd stopped by to visit _her_, but for his superiors to decide that he could come back, officially… The least he could say was that he had been flabbergasted. They'd ordained for him to stay away from LA until the operation was done, incase someone recognized him. He was supposed to be dead after all. But because Sloane had managed to station a retreat back in LA, they needed someone here. But instead of asking his partner, he was sent. It was both a blessing and a curse.  
  
He had to get that stubborn thief otherwise the artifact would be lost. Resulting in another yelling match with his handler.   
  
Thankfully, the burglar was traveling on roads that were familiar. Really accustomed to, actually. Too close to home, in fact.   
  
_Don't turn left. Please, don't turn left._   
  
"Damn it, she turned left," he spoke into his ear-piece. His words were said in between large gulps of air. He had been chasing the woman for five miles while wearing tactical gear.  
  
"You mean she's turned onto your girlfriend's lane?" an accented British voice spoke, laced with mockery.  
  
"Shut up, Aiden."   
  
"Touché."  
  
Watching the woman, the green-eyed man suddenly knew that she knew exactly who was chasing her. "Aiden… how much does Sloane know about me?"  
  
"You know how silly that question is. You're dead. Even the best wouldn't be able to figure it out. It's under layers and layers of bureaucratic crap."  
  
"Are you sure he thinks that?"  
  
"Why are you pondering this now? We have work to do and a spy to catch," his voice disgustingly cheerful.  
  
"I think I've been made."  
  
"WHAT? Bloody God. What do you mean by that?"  
  
"She just went into my house."  
  
And then static was the only sound that Aiden heard.  
  
~*~*~  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's House  
2:05 PM  
  
It was working… and commencing very well. She was fading… dwindling into darkness. A warm comfort zone. And the knowledge that Vaughn was waiting for her was her touchstone. The one reason why she _knew_ she had to do this. Her love for him, too deep. Her loyalty to him, bound at the soul. There was no way out. If she had continued living, there would have been no one else. There would have been no love, no feelings. But if she left this world and entered Death, there would be no madness, no craziness, no more hurt feelings. And only love would be her guiding light to reach him. That she knew. With all her heart, she knew.  
  
_Je veux. Je désire. Je souhaite. J'espère._  
  
Languidly, memories began to flow towards her.  
  
When he first met her: _Some more coffee. And something to eat.  
  
I mean, it's like Tolstoy long. Devlin says it could take weeks to verify. But I know we could use another double agent in SD-6.  
  
Unless I had an instinct about you. _  
  
Their first clandestine meeting: _Yeah. Can you show me what a bag looks like again?_  
  
Memories came faster and faster: _No, actually, you won't. Uh, I'm being replaced by a senior officer. It seems I wasn't experienced enough to be your handler.  
  
Who am I talking to?   
Your invisible friend.  
  
My guardian angel.   
  
Hi. How did you find me?   
You told me a couple of months ago that when you feel the need to disappear, you go to the observatory. But the observatory was closed. And then I remembered you said the pier calms you down. But you weren't there. And you weren't at the bluffs and the palisades, either.   
You didn't really go to all those places.   
Yeah, I did. And then I remembered you liked the train station, too. Normal people going to their normal jobs.   
I can't believe you remember that.  
  
If you're doing what I think you're doing, I'm in if you need me.  
  
Vaughn, if you're worried about me... you don't need to be.  
  
There's no upside to keeping me informed? You didn't tell me about Monolo or that you had discussions with my mother! You didn't even tell me that you were seeing Alice again!   
Wait. What is this about?   
This is about me being too old to be coddled!   
Your life is complicated, Sydney! Forgive me for trying to make it any easier!  
  
Did you ask him to do that?   
There are so many issues with this, I don't know where to begin.   
Hold on a second. I think we should have an open mind about this.   
An open mind.   
It'd be rude to overlook such a generous offer without proper consideration.   
I wouldn't dream of it.  
  
Hey, guys... I just talked to base, we did it. We kicked their asses…Hey... guys, did you hear what I said? Asses... kicked.  
  
You're so beautiful.   
Dinner's ready.   
You do have an oven, you know. We can reheat it._  
  
And finally, his last words to her: _Bye. I love you too._  
  
And the ghost said, _Je t'aime. Toujours. Pour eternité._  
  
She was finally falling, into a pool of warmth. A pool of white, bright light. Dying when he died. Staying alive in body only. There was no soul in the vacant body. Following after him. Ultimately. Enfin.   
  
~*~*~  
  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, CA  
Sydney's and Vaughn's House  
2:05 PM  
  
He automatically knew where the woman ran. _Following instinct._ There was only one possible opening without alerting someone inside the house.   
  
The basement light well.  
  
He followed at a brisk rate. He had to somehow have control of this situation. He couldn't alert Sydney to the possibility that someone was in the basement. He wouldn't risk her life. _A pledge is a pledge. And I place her life over mine._  
  
Looking in through the window, he saw that the woman was trying to get into the house. He was in fear, fear that Sydney would be hurt. Shocked that this woman would even try such a bold move. Astonished that this woman was so naïve in the world of spying.   
  
He had to get to her. Before it was too late.   
  
He smashed through the remaining window, too caught up in what was about to ensue to notice the already broken window to his right.   
  
It was easy catching up to her. He had her cornered almost immediately. Despite the fallen chair and paint buckets, nothing else was disturbed.  
  
He took out a tranquilizer dart and shot it into her upper arm. She lost consciousness, but not before she emitted a loud scream.  
  
_Damn it. This day just can't get any worse can it?_  
  
Making sure that she was out, he easily opened the door that the woman had been trying to break down. He slipped the key back into his pocket and walked into the kitchen of his house.   
  
He noticed first the glass bottles… _peculiar_.  
  
Walking closer, he noticed the labels. _s***. What is she doing with these things? She doesn't drink this type of stuff…normally… but how much do I know about her life these days? I haven't exactly visited her often…_  
  
Next were the capsule containers. Orange, translucent. Five of them, scattered all over the counter.   
  
It hit him all too suddenly what she had done.   
  
_Am I too late? Am I?_  
  
He was panicking and he knew it. Running through every room leading down the hall.  
  
The living room: empty.  
  
The family room: empty.  
  
The library: empty.  
  
The bathroom: empty.  
  
The guestroom: empty.  
  
He was losing rooms… losing choices.   
  
The master bedroom. The one he had hoped for, and the one he had dreaded.  
  
Opening the door, he saw her at the bed. He relaxed a little. She looked like she was asleep. But appearances had been deceiving before… and were again.  
  
The champagne glass, rimmed with residue. The pictures of them together huddled around her. Pictures of him. Pictures of her. The love. The compassion. The life.  
  
He knelt by the bed. Touching her face again, so soft and warm.  
  
_Warm was good. Her skin is still warm. A clue that she was still alive._  
  
Pressing two fingers on her slim neck, he felt for her jugular.   
  
_What have I done? What have I done?_  
  
"Merde."  
  
~tbc?~ 


	10. chapter 10

A/N: thanks to **Demon** and **rin** for betaing... 

Huge thanks to **Lor**, **Brynne**, and **valley-girl2** for reviewing. I'm late for class so, I promise I'll reply tomorrow ;) thanks again!

  
  
Chapter 10  
  
August 03, 2005  
Los Angeles, CA  
Sydney's and Vaughn's House  
2:14  
  
_She's still warm. She's still warm. Her temperature's still dropping fast. Too fast.   
  
How long has she been…gone?   
  
Think rationally.   
  
Think, Vaughn. Think.  
  
There's a 15-minute opening before you can't revive someone.  
  
How long has she been gone?  
  
It doesn't matter. She's coming back. She is. She has to. [Why did I leave her?]  
  
Think. There's no pulse. There's no breath.  
  
[This is all my fault.]  
  
CPR._  
  
Vaughn lifted Sydney off their bed. Onto the floor. _She's going to lose body heat faster. She's so light. [What have I done?]_  
  
Methodically, with practiced moves, he tilted her head back to open her airway. _She's still not breathing._ Pinching her nose, he gave her 2 full breaths. _Still no breaths and still no pulse._ Placing the heel of his hand on her sternum, he laced his other hand right on top of the first. And he started the chest compressions. _Oh my god. I'm hurting her… but I need to save her. Please come back Syd. You have to come back. To me._ After 15 chest compressions he gave her 5 breaths. He kept going. Refusing to stop. He had to save her. He had to. There would be no reason to keep going if she left. The only solution would be to join her then. Scary how similar Syd's and his reasoning was. _Need to check if there's a pulse._  
  
Still no pulse. _How many minutes have gone already?_ His mind was crying out. Tears were showering onto her face, neck, chest.   
  
_I still need to continue. Continue. She can't leave me._  
  
He was getting tired. But he couldn't give up. Not on her. Never on her.   
  
"Syd. Please. Don't leave me."  
  
And he persevered. Until he heard the heard a noise that made warmth swarm into his heart.   
  
She had coughed.   
  
She was breathing on her own.  
  
_She's alive again. She came back._  
  
Her eyelashes fluttered. Her liquid brown eyes came into view. Tears blurred her sight.  
  
"Vaughn?"  
  
_She can't remember me after this,_ he thought sadly. He couldn't allow her to be put in danger.  
  
"Vaughn?" she repeated.  
  
"Yeah Syd?" his voice was drenched in relief and tears. Relief that she was now relatively safe. In tears because he couldn't imagine that his love would do something like this.  
  
"Am I going to go with you now? To where you are?" her voice filled with innocence and love.  
  
He was starting to choke up. Hearing her talk about how much she wanted to be with him was agonizing. Forcing her to go through life by herself, he didn't want to do his mission anymore. He wanted to stay home, with her. Get married, have children. Live in love forever.  
  
"No. I can't let you do this to yourself."  
  
"Vaughn. I want to be with you though."  
  
"Syd. You can't do this to yourself. I will always be here. Remember? Guardian Angel?" he was starting to yell. He felt himself getting angry. Angry at her for doing this. Angry at the fact that he could have been too late. Angry at himself for leaving her. Angry at himself for not always being there.   
  
"Vaughn? Don't be mad at me. I'm going to be with you soon. I love you too much," she was smiling.   
  
_How could she be smiling? What have I missed?_ And one word echoed back. _Poison.  
  
Shit. How could I have forgotten? The toxins are still in her system. She could be gone again any second.   
  
What can I do? The hospital is too far away. Milk is contraindicated. It'll delay the emetic actions of the Ipecac.  
  
Ipecac._  
  
"Syd. Stay with me. I'll be right back." Slowly, he scoops her back onto the bed, and then ran off to the bathroom, calling 911 on the way.  
  
_flashback  
  
"Syd, are you sure you want to babysit a 9 month old?"  
  
"Yeah. It'll be good practice," she answered teasingly.  
  
"Practice for what, love?"  
  
"Our baby of course. What else would I be talking about, silly?"  
  
He stopped eating his cereal. They hadn't talked about children yet, or marriage as a matter of fact.  
  
"Really Syd?" his tone serious, all traces of jesting gone.  
  
"Really."   
  
That one word brightened his day. It told him that she was committed. That it was a lifelong thing. Definitely not a fling. That one day, they would have a family. Emotions rushed through him: happiness, joy, excitement, love, rapture.   
  
"I love you, Syd."  
  
"I love you too Vaughn." _Still 'Vaughn' I see. Well… at least it's different in bed.  
  
_"But a baby?"  
  
"Yes. A baby." Her face was alight. _  
  
The breakfast table is definitely not the setting for this type of conversation. Maybe more like the bedroom…  
  
_"How many do you want?"  
  
"Vaughn…"  
  
"Humor me Syd."  
  
"Fine, 2. A boy and a girl. Both have your green eyes. One blonde, preferably the boy. And the other has my brown hair. Your turn."  
  
"Syd… I've never really thought about it. I've never considered spending my life with any other woman, and you're the first. I was afraid that you wouldn't want something like that. I was even afraid to entertain the thought. If you were to reject me one day… I just didn't want another hope to crash down on me if you were to leave one day. I don't think I could stand that."  
  
"Michael, I would never leave. You know that."  
  
"A baby? Our own baby?"  
  
"Yeah. Our own baby. One day. But we have to practice first!"  
  
"Syd, it's still early… 7 am to be exact. It's Saturday. The baby won't be coming until around 9 am… we can practice something else you know…" he said in a suggestive tone.  
  
They were struggling to put on their clothes when the doorbell rang at 9:03. _

  
_They were lying in bed, curled around each other—her head on his chest; his face buried in her hair. Then the door bell rang.  
  
"Sydney! The door. The baby's here!"  
  
"No more practicing?" she asked meekly.   
  
"Not until tonight that is," he replied with a wink.  
  
They hurriedly put on their clothes that littered their hallway. Half struggling to put on their pants, half falling over each other. Laughter permeated the air, tainting it with happiness.   
  
Vaughn opened the door to their neighbors. Their appearances were already haggard at nine AM. A baby boy was clutching his mother. Little fists balled up in her auburn hair.   
  
"Hey Michael," the father said. "Thank you so much for looking after little Mark here."   
  
"It's no problem Austin. Really. It's no problem at all. Sydney and I would love to have the little guy over," Vaughn said.  
  
"We really need to get going. The wedding is supposed to start in half an hour and we're running a little late," Austin told Vaughn. He completely ignored Sydney, pretending that she wasn't there. Turning to his wife, he said, "Dana, come on. Give Mark to them already. We gotta go. Come on. Hurry up."  
  
Dana timidly handed Mark to Sydney. The nine-month-old immediately started to cry. Sydney patted him on the back and whispered words of comfort. Vaughn watched with awe. It was the first time he'd seen her with a baby in her arms. He saw the motherly attitude and immediately knew that she'd be a great mother one day. He kept looking back and forth between the two, enraptured by the scene playing out in front of him.  
  
Obviously not knowing that they were interrupting a tender moment, Dana started to lay down the rules, "We'll be back around 3 PM to pick him up. He needs to be fed every four hours. The last time he was fed was at 8AM. His diapers are in this bag as his is baby food." Suddenly, a baby bag was shoved into Vaughn's arms. "If he wants a bottle, give it to him otherwise he'll whine until you do. And his pacifier is also in there. He's teething again so he'll be drooling all the time. And he needs a nap from 11 to 12:30. His toys, video, and blanket are also in the baby bag."  
  
Vaughn looked relieved that there was no more information he needed. "Alright. It looks like we're going to be having a great time."  
  
"Dana, we really need to go," Austin complained. "Bye Michael. Thanks again." He was still dragging his wife by the arm when Vaughn closed the door.  
  
He turned to Sydney. "Well, they looked awfully eager to hand little Mark over."  
  
"Yeah. I'm actually glad we have him. He must hate it if his father acts like that," Sydney said, still mad at the way Austin had treated her.  
  
"I noticed that. But you know what took all my attention away?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The thought that one day, you'll be holding our baby in your arms." He then leaned over to kiss her.  
  
Before their lips could touch however, Sydney felt a harsh tug on her hair. The baby didn't like to be ignored. Sighing, Vaughn mouthed the word 'later.'  
  
Addressing the baby, Vaughn said, "Hey little man, do you want to go play?"  
  
Sydney put the Mark on the floor. He sat up and looked around curiously. He toppled over forward, and Sydney was about to reach for him when she realized that he wanted to crawl. He instantaneously went towards Vaughn and reached for his face. Vaughn went down on his knees and let the baby explore his face. Mark tugged at Vaughn's hair, pulling at it until it stuck up at many different angles. His little hand then landed on Vaughn's 5 o'clock shadow and rubbed his hand against it. Mark smiled, proud of Vaughn's makeover. By then, Sydney was sitting down watching the interaction between the two of them. She grinned when she saw beautiful green eyes look up at her.   
  
Just then, the doorbell rang again.  
  
"I'll get it."  
  
"Thanks Syd. This little man and I are gonna play some peek-a-boo."  
  
She opened the door to the neighbors again. This time, they were sweating just by running the short distance from their car to the door.   
  
Huffing and puffing, Dana took out a small bottle. "It's Ipecac."  
  
"What?"  
  
Rolling her eyes, she explained, "Ipecac. It's that liquid thing that induces vomiting?" Seeing Sydney's blank stare, she rolled her eyes. "You know how babies are curious?" Without waiting for an answer, she hurried on, "Well, this syrup makes them vomit within 20 minutes. It irritates their gastrointestinal mucosa. Basically, it gets rid of the poison."  
  
"Okay. I'll make sure he doesn't put anything in his mouth."  
  
"You better make sure, missy. Otherwise you're gonna have a lawsuit waiting for you," Austin said in a snobby tone. "Where is the baby now anyway?"  
  
"He's with Michael in the living room. They're playing peek-a-boo," Sydney replied, biting back an angry retort.  
  
"I see," Austin said in a disapproving voice.  
  
"Well then. Is that all? Aren't you late for that wedding you're supposed to attend?"  
  
"Yeah. We are. But thanks to Dana's forgetfulness, we had to come back here," Austin said, glaring at Dana. Dana was suddenly interested in the invisible dirt on her shoes. "We'll be leaving now."  
  
Refusing to show them how angry she was, she closed the door gently behind them.  
  
Walking into the living room, Sydney showed Vaughn the little bottle.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Apparently our good neighbors don't trust us. It's Ipecac."  
  
"Oh. So they think little Markie here will swallow something bad."  
  
"Yeah. But we won't let him, will we?"  
  
"Nope," Vaughn said as he leaned in for a kiss.  
  
End flashback _  
  
The Ipecac was still in the medicine cabinet. They had forgotten to give it back to the neighbors after their babysitting adventure. Grabbing the bottle, Vaughn ran back to Sydney's side.  
  
_Damn it. How much am I supposed to give her?_  
  
"Vaughn, what are you doing?" Sydney asked in a trembling voice that reminded him of a lost eight-year-old girl.   
  
Opening the bottle, Vaughn said, "Syd, I need you to drink some of this."  
  
"No. I wanna be with you," Sydney retorted, shaking her head furiously.  
  
"Syd. Please. This is the only way. We'll be together soon, but just not right now. It's not your time. Please. Drink it."  
  
Tilting her head back, Vaughn forced her to drink half the bottle.  
  
Coughing and choking, she heard Vaughn whisper, "You're going to live. You're gonna be all right. You're going to live. Shh… Syd. Je t'aime, mon amour, je t'aime."  
  
In the distance, the sound of an ambulance could be heard. Its sirens penetrated the sound of nearby traffic, of laughter, of children.   
  
"You're gonna be all right," and with that, he laid her back down on the pillow, kissed her forehead, and sheltered himself into the darkness. When Sydney blinked, he was gone. 

~tbc~


	11. chapter 11

A/N: betaed by **Demon** again! :) thanks!

Thank you for chapter 9 reviews:

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Lor: LOL… well… I thought that was the only way to capture everything he was feeling. Sorry if it offended you.

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Brynne: The spy Vaughn had to catch really doesn't matter all that much. The reason why he has to leave is actually (supposed to be) revealed in the epilogue (I _still_ haven't written it! Oops). Hehe… it seems like subs always know the best words ::whistles:: 

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valley-girl2: lol… yup… don't assume too much ;) hehe… funniest one-liner for a chapter in a long while? Awesome :) that makes me feel special! ::starts to realize I'm talking to someone older than I am… uh oh… ;) :: hehe… exams… sigh… I really should start studying for those… next week! Grr… the school system just had to go and ruin my birthday :( oh well… not like I actually study for those… 

Thank you for chapter 10 reviews:

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Brynne: ::mouth drops open in shock:: you like S/S? whoa… never would have guessed! Hehe… I admit, I'm not very fond of that pairing (hence why I write SVR), but… I have many friends that do. Haha. The wonders of the world. I feel honoured that you're reading my story! Considering how pro S/V it is and all… thank you!

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valley-girl2: aww I hope your day wasn't too bad. I'm glad it makes up for your day though! Hehe… babies of their own… (connect back to the miscarriage). I won't tell you've been reading. Good luck on all your tests!

Chapter 11  
  
August 06, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Hospital  
2:49 PM  
  
She was staring at the ceiling like she had done so many months before on the night of his death. Her father had just visited her for the third consecutive day of her hospital stay. His disapproving frown was evident in her blurry sight. She knew that he thought her cowardly, depressed, and crazy. They had ended their screaming match only an hour earlier. He was trying to put her in the right place, trying to make her see that Vaughn would have never wanted her to kill herself. Trying to keep his only daughter alive. So he had pulled out his trump card.  
  
_"You can't do this to yourself," Jack yelled, getting desperate.  
  
"I don't want to be here anymore," she whispered back.  
  
"Think about this in a different situation. If you were dead, would you want Vaughn to kill himself?"  
  
I had taken her a long time to answer knowing that the answer would be used as a weapon against her in this debate. It was an answer that she and her father already knew the answer to. She knew deep inside that she would rather die one hundred times over than know that she was the cause of Vaughn's death.   
  
Her murmured defeat was all Jack needed to hear.   
  
His next words were of work. In that stone cold voice, he said, "We need to cover this up. No one will let you work knowing that you are suicidal. Especially the CIA. We need to give Kendall his reason within the hour of why you are in the hospital. The hospital staff will obviously be debriefed so that the CIA will have an accurate description of what happened to you. I have already been to your house and cleared away all the evidence."  
  
Her mind drifted. She didn't want to listen to this. She wanted to be a home. A warm body spooned around her figure, preferably Vaughn's. She wanted the love, warmth, and comfort that she once had. Not this shell of a life she owned now.   
  
She felt so lonely, so tired. She didn't want the life she had. She didn't necessarily want to move on though; she didn't think she was brave enough to do that yet. The concept of moving on without Vaughn was scary, like another world yet to be explored. She wasn't ready and she knew it._  
  
In the back of her mind, she sensed two more people behind her. People that weren't there when her father left.  
  
"Hey Syd," chirped the happier one.  
  
"Agent Bristow," said the other.  
  
_Figures_, she thought. Weiss and Kendall.   
  
She ignored them, content to be trapped within her own thoughts. She pretended like they weren't there. Kendall was doing all that was possible to get her attention. Weiss was just watching her, knowing that there was more going on than the story that Jack told him.   
  
Eventually, she couldn't pretend anymore.   
  
"What do you want?" she said in a harsh voice.  
  
"Agent Bristow, I'd advise you to be more polite to yo—"  
  
"Shut up, Kendall, I don't want to hear your BS."  
  
One of Weiss' eyebrows rose and it looked like his face just went slack, his mouth hanging open slightly.  
  
"Fine, Agent Bristow. I expect you to behave yourself when I get back from the restroom."  
  
"I hope that stick you have in your ass comes out, too," she muttered so softly that only Weiss heard.   
  
Weiss waited until Kendall closed the door behind him before he let his laughter burst through.   
  
"Syd. I can't believe you said that!" He went to her for a hug, which she gladly returned.   
  
"Yeah, well, if I didn't say it, you would have."  
  
"You know Syd, you remind me of something Mike did."  
  
Her eyes became moist at the mention of Vaughn's name, but carefully hid it from Weiss by lying back on the pillow and closing her eyes.   
  
"I even called him 'balls of steel' for it too," he said, winking at her.  
  
"Yeah, Vaughn told me about it," she replied, a hint of a smile on her face.   
  
There was a beat of silence between the two.   
  
"So what happened, Sydney?"  
  
The room became less airy and bright. It became gloomy. It felt like the colors somehow magically dulled.   
  
"I think you know Weiss. In fact, I know you know."  
  
"Syd, you can't do that to yourself!"  
  
"Well, I don't want to be here!"  
  
"You can't keep torturing yourself. You have to accept the fact that you need to move on!"  
  
"I don't want to move on!"  
  
"Sy—"  
  
Kendall had walked into the room. Sydney's mood was angry and sullen again.  
  
"Agent Bristow. Do you want to finally talk now?"  
  
"Go to hell Kendall."  
  
Turning to Weiss, Kendall asked, "Agent Weiss, did she tell you anything?"  
  
Shooting Syd a look that clearly said, 'I'm sorry,' Weiss said, "Yes, she did."  
  
"Well then, what did she say?"  
  
"Just like Jack said. There was evidence that some of the food she ate had been tampered with. It was a poisoning attempt, Assistant Director Kendall."  
  
"Sloane?"  
  
"From what the labs have come back with, it does seem like Sloane is the main suspect so far."  
  
Sydney couldn't believe what she was hearing. Weiss was lying under an oath he gave to the CIA when he was first recruited. He was jeopardizing his job to save her ass. She felt a surge of guilt flow through her body.  
  
"There is one part I don't understand then. Who was the person that gave Bristow the Ipecac we found at her house," Kendall asked quizzically.  
  
Not being able to answer the question for Sydney, Weiss turned towards her.   
  
"I just have a guardian angel," she replied, smiling. It was her first smile since her suicide attempt just three days ago.   
  
Kendall just rolled his eyes and left the room. Weiss however knew what she was talking about, having heard the conversation between Vaughn and Sydney all those years ago when she was going to meet Anna.   
  
"Syd," he turned to make sure that the door was closed and that Kendall was out of the room. "It couldn't have been him. He's dead. Jesus Syd!," he said exacerbated. "For how long have you thought he was still alive Syd? You even saw his body. He's dead. For more than a year, he's been dead. You need to accept that."  
  
"Don't worry Weiss, I know he's dead. He's an angel now."   
  
Weiss sighed. "Okay Syd. We'll talk later, okay? I need to get to a meeting."  
  
Sydney extended her arms and gave Weiss a hug. "You take care okay Syd?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"One more thing. This was on your door before I came in. I got it before Kendall had a chance to see it."  
  
He handed over a plain envelope. On the front of the envelope, Sydney's name was written in a handwriting she knew. Vaughn's. She carefully opened it and unfolded a letter.  
  
_24 1-4 2-6 3-3 4-4 5-1 6-4 7-2 8-4 9-7 10-2 11-8 12-2 13-3 14-2 15-6 16-4 17-4 18-3 19-6 20-2 21-4 22-2 23-6 24-6_

d s m a i w b b t a m d n b a m s t w i o j t v e y o n i e a o t i o o e f a u h i s p e ' a a d n g l c n d t r k r e n e a u r n e l k i n a e e d n i g e g i i o m h y h g d w e n t h t

"What the hell?"

~tbc~

A/N2: ::ponders whether or not to make people figure out the code before I post the next chapter:: I know… I'm evil like that…

Hehe… or… I can post the chapter after… 5 reviews? ::whistle:: ::wonders what has gotten into me lately:: :P


	12. chapter 12

A/N: thanks to **demon** for betaing again!

Hmm… now I understand why some authors put those review limits… IT WORKS! Hehe… I promise I won't do it in the future… I really wanted to see if someone would have figured out the code.

Thanks to:

Chapter 5:

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leo's l'il sista: sorry about not getting you on the list last chapter! Thanks for trying to catch up… I look forward to when you do :) 

Chapter 9:

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S@nd: that's what it means in French? Hmm… I always thought it translated into another word… ;) I don't think there's a lot more French in the chapters… only the phrases… But if I do need help with the French in the epilogue, I definitely will ask you! Thanks for the offer :)

Chapter 11:

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constance: lol… okay… I'm hurryin' I'm hurryin' 

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valley-girl2: hehe… don't fail those tests! I'd feel awful. And thank you for the early birthday wish :) lol. It was so fun writing Syd getting pissed off at Kendall… such fun things to write about it! Hehe… there's the chapter!

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'sally': no multiple languages? But… doesn't that just lose all the fun? Hehe… I know what you mean though… if you don't understand the language and an author doesn't put up translations… it gets irritating. (aren't you at sd-1 and have that really really cool Vaughn AV? )

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Brynne: I swear, it's not a complicated code!… many people have attempted to solve it though… didn't really happen until lots and lots of hints were given out… lol. 

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Lor: I'm glad I didn't offend! You speak French? Awesome language… very fun stuff. 

  
Chapter 12  
  
August 06, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Hospital  
5:45 PM  
  
"Weiss! I think I got it!" Sydney exclaimed.  
  
Weiss had returned from his meeting at least an hour ago. During his absence, she had been trying to figure out the encrypted message. The numbers did not form any type of code that she was familiar with. And why didn't the first number not have a dash to number sequence next to it? It just didn't make any sense. The letters also did not have any type of pattern that she could figure out. It was, in short, just a jumble of random numbers and letters. But it just seemed like there had to be a message.   
  
But now that she had discovered the message… it seemed like it had to be the simplest type of code to break. She had been looking for a sequence that contained turns and different types of rhythmic breaks.   
  
But then again, she had been so jarred by the handwriting's being Vaughn's that she had a hard time thinking. All she could think of was _Why would an angel want to contact me again?_  
  
"Syd. What does the letter say?" he said, very excited.  
  
"Well… I'm not entirely sure yet. But I think I broke the code."  
  
"What's the code?"  
  
"24 equals the number of words. 1-4 says that the first word has 4 letters. 2-6 says that the second word has 6 letters and so on and so on."  
  
"Okay. I see that. Just like a spy to have such a difficult code to break. It kinda reminds me of that time Alan, my dog, learned how to read that cookbook…" Weiss said. He still didn't believe that the letter was from Vaughn. When she mentioned it, the first thing he said was, "Ghosts can't write Syd. And you're assuming that Vaughn is a ghost."  
  
All she did was sigh when he said that. He thought she was… a little confused "coming back from the brink of life and all," were his words.  
  
Interrupting his dog story, she said, "And then the letters are in a certain order. So the first letter is part of the first word, the second letter is part of the second word and so on."  
  
After 10 more minutes, she read the complete message. She was so shocked that when she handed over the letter to Weiss, her hand trembled.   
  
Weiss read, _Dear Sydney mon ange I will be back tonight at midnight do not be afraid make sure the window is open je t'aime Vaughn._  
  
A short note, but one effective enough that it allowed Weiss to immediately know where he would be tonight at midnight.

~*~*~  
  
August 07, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Hospital  
11:57 PM  
  
Sydney was lying awake in bed. Memorizing the ceiling… again. There was 3 more minutes before the wraith was supposed to arrive, and her nerves were jittering. She was nervous. Wondering what he wanted to say to her. If she was in for a lecture, or if he was there to just want to talk to her. She remembered him telling her to live and that it wasn't her time. But it just wasn't fair. She was still not at the place she belonged.  
  
  
12:02 AM  
  
_He's late. It's only by 2 minutes… but he's late. And he's never late. But maybe time goes by differently where he is now. I really shouldn't worry. He'll come. He always does._  
  
  
12:15 AM  
  
She felt the warm air blowing away the cool air as it came through the hospital window.   
  
_There must be a reason. He'll come. I know he will. He would never upset me._  
  
  
12:30 AM  
  
She was tossing and turning in the unfamiliar cot.   
  
_He's never this late. He's not coming. He's not coming. I can't believe it. Maybe Weiss was right. This was just a hoax all along. I'll give him 15 more minutes, then I'm gonna try and sleep._  
  
  
1:01 AM  
  
_He didn't come._  
  
She closed her eyes on the moonlight and let a tear slide down her cheek.   
  
_He didn't come._  
  
What she didn't know was that there was a shadow just outside her window. His heart grew heavier with grief as he watched that one tear land with a light splash against the white pillow. He longed to go to her, to hold her in his arms. But he couldn't. Not when he knew that once he entered, Weiss would be standing right outside her door and probably hear him step in.   
  
~*~*~  
  
August 07, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Hospital  
2:54 PM  
  
"He didn't show up Sydney," Weiss said, but she really wasn't paying that much attention. "You need to realize that it wasn't real. It was another trick from some unknown enemy. It was a play on your emotions, Syd."  
  
That sparked a response from her.  
  
"Don't call me Syd, Weiss."  
  
There was a silence. Weiss knew why, but he also knew that she had to get over it. Whenever Vaughn said her sobriquet, it was always with so much love. No one could ever recreate how he said it. Just like no one can ever be like him. He watched her still form in the bed, knowing that she was trying to drain her life away. Determined to let herself live a life that she shouldn't have to live.   
  
"Fine then, Sydney. But you can't go around blocking people out. You need help. Your life can't just be focused on him anymore. You need to get past it. We all have, we're just waiting for you now."  
  
"Weiss, there's no polite way to say this, so I'm just gonna say it. Get out. Now."  
  
That infuriated Weiss. "Sydney! Why can't you just listen to yourself for a minute! You aren't the same person you were a year ago. We all aren't. But just listen! You will never be the same person, but you are taking it too hard. It wasn't your fault that he is where he is right now—"  
  
"But he is! Can't you see? I was there. I should have known. I. Should. Have. Known."  
  
Beat.  
  
"Then why have you been wearing his ring for the past year?"  
  
So he did know. He'd known.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Because I miss him too much."  
  
"Then it wasn't your fault. And you know it."  
  
They stared at each other. Weiss letting Sydney go through what had just happened in her mind. Letting her soak it all in. He could only imagine what she was going through, but he knew that she had to stop slowly killing herself. He had tried to let himself conjecture what she was going through by pretending that Sarah had died. He had nightmares for a week after that, and knew that it would be hard if it really happened in real life.  
  
"Sydney… you need to move on."  
  
"I can only try Weiss."  
  
"Good. Just try. And remember that we're all here to help when you need it."  
  
~*~*~  
  
August 07, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Unknown  
3:25 PM  
  
The shadow sat in his office, staring at the TV screen. He had planted a bug in her room last night. After Weiss had left and Sydney had been asleep. He had watched her sleep for at least an hour. Memorizing her features, knowing that it would be a while before he could see her again. Maybe months, maybe years. He still didn't know. All he knew was that he had to go undercover for a while. To make her safe.   
  
Weiss had been a great friend to him, and Vaughn could see that he was going to be a great one to Sydney. He would take care of her.   
  
He just wished that he could be there with her, so she wouldn't have to go through all this pain.   
  
He had so many regrets. But one specific one. The deal he made with Devlin and Jack, the one that required him to stay away from Sydney.  
  
He let a tear trickle down his cheek, watching the pained emotion Sydney was feeling on screen.  
  
Then he heard a "Vaughn, let's go."  
  
It was time to go back to work.  
  
~tbc~


	13. chapter 13

A/N: thank you so much to **demon** and **rin** for betaing! thank you thank you thank you! and more thank yous to **demon** and **angelbleu** for making wps for this fic.   
  
and this chapter is dedicated to a classmate of mine in elementary school, Jaerin. Hope you're having fun in heaven.

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Lor: good thing you put the English next to that phrase… it would have taken me at least a minute to understand what you were saying! (yes… it's been that long since I've taken French…) 

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valley-girl2: lol… seriously… how can someone be mad at weiss? He's such a teddy bear!! :) hehe… the code wasn't that hard was it? Hehe.. glad for you! The end of the semester is always good… my finals are next week :( hehe… I really should get studying. I hope you have a safe trip back home!

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total vaughn lover: hehe… I love the new name! 

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'sally': a lot of stuff is going on… which will be all reveiled in the epilogue… hehe.. I'm still chatnoir on sd-1. :)

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Brynne: well.. he had to stay hidden from Weiss! Hehe… he has reasons. Very very teary reunion. ;)

Gah… late for class again! I have a calc test too… wish me luck! :) I really need an A…

  
  
  
Chapter 13  
  
August 17, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Sydney's and Vaughn's House  
2:35 PM  
  
The shades of grays melted against the shadows of the furniture. He was watching for Sydney. He had come two hours before he knew she'd be home from her half day of work at the Joint Task Force to find a hiding place. He heard a car coming up the driveway, alerting him to the fact that she was home.   
  
The sound of the key scratching the key hole, the lock twisting and dropping, and the turning of the doorknob. She was in the house, dropping her keys in a plate meant for decoration as she passed.   
  
Her steps echoed as she walked toward her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, he waited a few minutes before changing positions so he could hear what she was doing. The rainfall of the shower penetrated the walls. He also heard gasping and hiccuping of air. His eyes widened as he realized that she was crying. The moaning of a woman angry at the world for taking away her love.   
  
After a few minutes, the water was shut off. He left his position in front of her bedroom door in search of a better hiding place.   
  
He watched as she left the room wearing a man's shirt with the Kings' logo on the front. She was thin. The close encounter with death had left a mark on her. Her eyes were deep red pits in her skull. She was killing herself again… it was obvious. Maybe not consciously, but she was. The already too big shirt was hanging on her gaunt frame.   
  
A diamond ring was shimmering on her ring finger.  
  
"Damn it. He never told me he'd asked her," he swore under his breath.   
  
She stopped by a picture frame. From what he could see in this angle, it was a silver antique. She shifted her weight from one foot to the next and he saw a picture of _them_ together. They had their arms around one another and they radiated with a glow that only true lovers had. She was crying again.  
  
She sat the picture frame down and moved to the kitchen.   
  
He watched her grab a bottle of whiskey, already three fourths empty, and a shot glass. _I sure picked a hell of a day to visit her. Good thing she doesn't do this everyday. If she did, her father would definitely know, especially if she went to work late, had a hangover, and reeked with alcohol. He would have knocked some sense into her. Either he or Weiss._  
  
He knew that she wasn't planning on killing herself again, only trying to drench out her sorrows. _Should I stop her?_  
  
She was already pouring her second cup. But instead of throwing it back like she did the first and letting its fire course through her body, she nursed this one.   
  
_At least she still shows some semblance of self control._  
  
She started staring off into space, smiling at some memory that had popped in her thoughts. He couldn't stand watching the emotions pass through her face anymore. It was getting too sappy for him.   
  
"Sydney, I believe your father would be highly… shall we say… disappointed right now if he were to see you sitting there drinking," I said, coming out of the shades of gray.  
  
She stiffened visibly and her breathing became erratic. Her eyes were trained on the barrel of his gun. He was standing only four feet away. She was immobilized. She wasn't armed. He had her at her most vulnerable state of mind too.  
  
"You're supposed to be dead," her said just above a whisper, her voice tight with fear.  
  
"Verisimilitude Sydney. You should know that."  
  
"It might seem true, but I know I'm dreaming. You're dead. So many people saw you die."  
  
"But when does anything ever appear as it seems. A death is so easy to fake."  
  
"Stop it! Stop it! Gloating yourself by making my mind spin will get you no where," she was holding her head in her hands. Memories were clashing with one another, creating a waterfall of thoughts to flow.  
  
There was a silence before he started again.  
  
"He misses you," he spoke quietly, and surprisingly with a degree of awe.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know who. He talks about you incessantly. He refuses to let me sleep at night. He watches over you even when you don't think he's there."  
  
"I know he does. I can feel him sometimes. He's my guardian angel."  
  
_How can I be having a civil conversation with him? And especially about Vaughn. This is so weird. This is wrong,_ Sydney thought.  
  
"Truth takes time, Sydney. I believe your mother told you that once, a long time ago?"  
  
Beat.   
  
"How did you know my mother told me that?"  
  
"I just know."  
  
Beat.  
  
"You're still supposed to be dead."  
  
"To you, I am dead. But to others, I'm a figment of their imagination. How wonderful is that? Just like your baby wasn't real."  
  
"What are you talking about?" she was trembling. Confused beyond regular confusion, scared to be talking to a supposed ghost.   
  
"You'll understand some day. But the baby wasn't real. It was something we had to do to make you forget certain events in your head."  
  
"Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"Because you can't keep on like this. I may have been your worst enemy at some point, especially when you first met me, but I promised Agent Vaughn I would take care of you while he was gone."  
  
She laughed a sarcastic laugh. "Vaughn made _you_ promise him? I highly doubt that. He would kill you first. And he's dead." Water came to her eyes again at the thought of him.  
  
"Just take care of yourself. Vaughn would be displeased if he sees you like this. He can't work if you're like this."  
  
Silence. All the information was being absorbed too fast. Her head was spinning with too much information. So many things changing. Reality was colliding with what she was dreaming… or what she thought she was dreaming.  
  
"Tell me. How do you know all this?"  
  
"That's what the afterlife is like Sydney. Get used to more frequent visits from us."  
  
"So you are dead."  
  
"Like I said before, Sydney, only to those who don't understand what we are doing."  
  
"Stop messing with my head. Leave already."  
  
"Take care of yourself."  
  
"Go away Sark," she spoke it was vehemence.   
  
"I prefer Aiden now," his British accent was clipped but calm.   
  
She closed her eyes, trying to remember why that name sounded so familiar. When she opened them, he was gone.  
  
All that was left was a note written on standard brown packaging paper.  
  
_Mon ange,  
  
Je t'aime. I miss you.   
  
~Vaughn _  
  
~tbc~ 


	14. chapter 14

A/N: thanks once again to **Demon** for betaing. she's such a sweet gal   
this is one REALLY _REALLY_ short chapter... (but think of it this way… **tomorrow… you get a 12 page chapter**!)

Sorry about being lazy yesterday… let's just say that studying for finals is draining.

Thank you to:

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'sally': hehe… a lot of hell from higher-ups apparently.. I was just waiting for Vaughn to punch Sloane ::pouts:: I wish he did. 

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valley-girl2: yay! Home. A great place to be. Lucky you. I still have one more week before break! Lots and lots of stuff to do. Hehe. Seriously, I just need a B+ on my calc final and I'll be happy. Hehe… glad you liked the "anonymous" until he spoke. The "Sydney's and Vaughn's house" will always be their house. :) LOL. When I feel the need eh? Hmm… that would be when I get around to the epilogue… ::whistle:: I'll work on that today… otherwise you guys will be waiting weeks and weeks and weeks. 

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Queen Gwenyvere: Glad you like! 

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total vaughn lover: hehe… I've been catching up on your fics… especially the very long one. I spent all of Thursday night and yesterday reading it! Hehe. Nice and long ;) now… I just need to review it!

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Brynne: lol. I knew you'd like the Sark part. Well… in all probability, they can be dead if I write them dead… but… you'll see next chapter. And then the epilogue should (hopefully) cement it all. Err… the Vaughn part might actually be the first, I can't seem to remember. LOL. The chapters are already written. I just need to edit the page so that I can write the responses and then change it to an HTML format so that ff.net will format it correctly. That's what actually makes me late for class :) Oh well, Euro History can wait. This is so much more fun!

  
Chapter 14  
  
September 28, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
Joint Task Force building  
12:20 PM  
  
She had been staring off into space, completely absorbed in thought. Thinking about Sark's, or rather, Aiden's visit more than a month ago. No, not only thinking about Aiden's visit, but Vaughn's as well. She didn't understand, couldn't comprehend, and wanted to digress. There was no logic. Nothing seemed to fit. Everything turned into nothing. There was no sense, no analytical description. Why were they haunting her? Why her?   
  
_Je veux._  
  
She wanted to scream at them. Tell them to go away. There were dead. She knew that. She saw the facts. She saw Vaughn's body and the DNA electrophoresis test that confirmed his identity. Sydney couldn't believe her eyes—they could be deceived. So she'd made them triple check the DNA match results. And each time, the DNA strands were paired. Always the same place, the same band length. There was no doubt the body was he.   
  
And she'd felt the guilt for the doubt. She saw him dead, only seconds after he was killed. And she had doubted it was the really him. Her heart had turned dead, unbelieving.   
  
_Je désire._  
  
Then there were the hauntings. The ones that were sapping her of life, and bringing her closer to where Vaughn lay. And she had acted on that impulse, to take her life. But she'd heard Vaughn's wish. She couldn't do something like that anymore. Every time she put a gun to her head, a knife to the wrist, another cocktail of death, she'd hear his voice. His voice telling her to stop, to live for him. And that would make her put down the gun and put it back into it's holster, lay the knife back on the counter, or drain the potion down the sink.   
  
_Je souhaite._  
  
But what did these hauntings mean? There were all Vaughn, and the last one Sark? It didn't make sense. She understood Vaughn coming, he had "unfinished business," but Sark was once again an enigma. Sark? Why Sark? And the message he carried with him… why was it written by Vaughn? They were both dead, enemies in life. But… friends in death? Nothing was making any sense anymore, and in some way, she liked it like that.  
  
She couldn't approach anyone on the subject. They would only throw her in the psych ward and brainwash her. Inform her that they were illusions of her troubled mind.  
  
_J'espère._  
  
"Hey, Bristow." The interruption made her jump, her hand bumping the computer mouse, turning the screensaver into the logon menu.   
  
"AD Kendall wants you in the conference room in two minutes."  
  
Sydney returned the messenger's relay with a small nod and an even more imperceptible smile.   
  
~*~*~  
  
September 28, 2005  
13,000 ft above sea level  
Cargo Plane 24047  
3:39 PM PST  
  
The conference had only lasted ten minutes. It was a basic brief rundown of the mission she had to perform in order to stop another Rambaldi artifact from being stolen by Sloane. The back channels had been pressed for time trying to get the mission specs in order. The undercover agent in Sloane's forces had only heard of the mission six hours before it was going to be conducted. The mission Sydney was going to perform had only been looked over once. The entire mission screamed of sloppiness. Something was bound to go wrong. And of course, Kendall just had to make things worse by coming along on this mission.  
  
"Sydney, change of plans," her father called out. "You're going in. Agent Spencer had some problems with her qualifications."  
  
At first, she had only been there as backup. Her father, Weiss, Marshall, Dixon… they had all been worried about her performing the actual stealing. Afraid that she was going to be subconsciously clumsy—an accidental death.   
  
"You're going in with Agent Weiss."  
  
"Weiss?! He barely has any field experience!"  
  
"Hey Bristow! I resent that," Sydney heard from the front of the plane. She couldn't help it. Her face broke into a smile.   
  
"I think you're missing some information. Agent Weiss has become quite… experienced… with his lying ability. He has fooled AD Kendall a number of times. Of course, I believe you had something with his… achievement?" he said, his voice cool and calm.   
  
She blushed, realizing that Weiss' achievement of lying without looking guilty was the result of one too many missed meetings. Of course… she was in a meeting, just not a meeting with Kendall, her father, Will, Dixon, Marshall, or any of the others in the conference room. No, her meeting had been with her angel… and of course, when they were late to so many meetings, Weiss had to play messenger boy.   
  
"Fine. So I am... his what? His friend? His sister—"  
  
"Sydney, you're going to be sent in playing the role of his girlfriend."  
  
She lapsed into silence. Jack staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Weiss watching her from afar, seeing how she'd take the news.  
  
Her face went blank, then she said, "I see. I guess I better go read up on my part then. Excuse me."  
  
Both Jack and Weiss were thinking of a different man who was supposed to be taking the part of the boyfriend, an agent that was much more qualified with field experience. A man that was also qualified in the field of handling Sydney Bristow.  
  
~tbc~ 


	15. chapter 15

A/N: lots of thanks this time: especially to **DEMON**, she was always there trying to help me get through my tough school problems with comic relief. and she helped me figure out the code names when I promptly forgot, and for helping me with some other things that will show up in later chapters. oh... and can you believe she's the one that's making me hold onto the S/V faith? yup. 

now this is by far the hardest chapter I had to write. thank you to **demon** for betaing... especially all my grammar problems. and another huge thank you for helping with all that martial arts terms... because I had no idea what was what... if it wasn't for her, this chapter would be filled with words like "kick" and "punch"... very undescriptive. 

****

demon's definitions of martial arts terms:  
straight punch: Self explanatory... you punch straight...  
hook punch: punch from the body, hooking it as you get close to the opponent  
uppercut: punch from below, usually connects with the jaw, thus making the head snap back  
jab - quick powerless punch used for distractions, etc  
front snap kick: real quick kick to the front  
side thrust- a kick to the side that locks for 1 second, with enough power to knock someone over  
flying side thrust- same as side thrust but they have a running start  
side snap - quick kick to the side  
roundhouse - kick that starts from the side of your body and moves to the front in a rounding fashion... (this is the hardest to explain)  
hook kick - used when your back is to the opponent and is much like the roundhouse...  
Hammer strike - swing your arm in a circle in front of your body and your fist hits the opponent in the face, usually in the bridge of the nose  
chop - an attack used for the neck, attack with the side of your palm...  
palm strike - use your palm to hit someone in the face (usually push the nose up, thus killin' them) or at the kidneys or some other weak area...  
spear hand - hand is flat and closed, palm facing the side, used to hit the solar plex. Possibly fatal  
backhand - fist starts near the arm pit and flips toward the target, hitting it with the back of your hand  
elbow strike - usually side attack, using the elbow. Tends to aim for solar-plex, kidneys, etc  
back thrust kick - like the side thrust but you kick behind you  
Crescent Kick - lift leg up and bring it down on the opponent, usually used if they're on the ground. Hits with the heel. target areas: Head, foot, knees, stomach, groin, and anywhere else you can hit that'll do damage 

and to **Gabs** for helping me figure out Munich. I've personally never been there, and Gabs has she picked out the English Gardens and showed me pictures of them. She also answered all the questions I had on it. thanks!  
  
and **Angel** for the D---- bashing... because I really needed it, she bugs me... Also thanks for the support you gave me with the whole school thing. 

and to **Jasmine** for answering some stupid grammar questions

  
and of course to the **SMFSSG**, all of you guys are amazing. yay! spoiler free for season 3!   
  
the song is "I don't wanna miss a thing" by aerosmith

Thank you to **'sally'** for reviewing! Hehe… yup, sloane is just too evil to actually think any good. Just like… why the (blanked) would the Rambaldi device say "peace." Ooh, depends on how you view this mission. It might just not go that wrong … ;)

I think I'm going to blame the lack of reviews on ff.net… ( I know it didn't show up until like midnight PST on my page… and I uploaded it at like… 6AM!) :P

  
  
Chapter 15  
  
  
September 29, 2005  
Munich, Germany  
English Gardens  
7:06 PM, local time  
  
"Mountaineer, Retriever, this is base ops. State your current situation."  
  
"Mountaineer in position."  
  
"Retriever in position."  
  
"Head in. If everything stays on track, dead drop in two hours. Good luck."  
  
Weiss glanced over in Sydney's direction. She was supposed to come down the stone steps and meet him at the bottom in a few seconds. He took this time alone to calm down and check his appearance. It wouldn't be good for the other guests to see a man sweating profusely and think he had a medical problem. He surveyed his surroundings. It was a park with multiple creeks running through it and dense trees on both sides. Apparently, there was going to be a trade off between an operative of Sloane's and one of his contacts.   
  
"Roland?" It was Sydney's voice. His time alone was up.  
  
"Gabrielle." She was beautiful. Dressed in her calf length spaghetti strapped silk dress. It was elegant and perfect for this event. He wished Vaughn was here to see her.  
  
The plan was for them to dance for a while and blend themselves in with the crowd dancing on the lawn. While dancing, they would be searching for Sloane's operative. They had seen the picture while on the cargo plane, however it had been a horrible one. The 30 something man they were to detain was short, around 5 foot 4, had red hair and brown eyes. He would be easy to search out in a sea of brown, blonde, black, and white heads.   
  
Once they detected this man, Sydney was to approach him and lead him away from the crowd. She was to disarm him and retrieve the disk. Typical mission, and yet, countless errors could be made.  
  
"Roland? Hello?" it was whispered. "Weiss!" That snapped him out of his pondering. He reacted immediately.  
  
Holding out his arm, he gently hooked it through her arm. They made their way to the lawn.   
  
The costumes might have made them appear as husband and wife, but the connection, that air, was missing. There was no love of lovers between them and that is what made them not compatible. Only the love of friends.   
  
Weiss knew that Sydney's heart still belonged to a ghost long dead. One who's grasp refused to relent.  
  
~*~*~  
  
September 29, 2005  
Munich, Germany  
English Gardens  
8:00 PM, local time  
  
"Quit tripping over my feet! Jeez, didn't anyone ever teach you how to dance?"  
  
"What? And let my high school friends view me as a dancing pony? Never! I got the girls in other ways."  
  
Sydney snorted. "How?"  
  
"Football does wondrous things, kinda like ice hockey."  
  
Silence.  
  
"I see him."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"He's near the river. He's getting a drink of champagne."  
  
"Careless. Very careless… You think I can get some? I think I'll need it," at Sydney's glare, he quickly added on, "You know. For courage!"  
  
"I'm moving in." He caught her arm before she could move out of his reach.  
  
"Be careful."  
  
A strange look came into her eyes. But she blinked it away. "I always am," she murmured softly. "Com-link is back on."  
  
"Ditto."  
  
"See ya around." And she stepped into the crowd.  
  
"He'll haunt me if you don't come back. He'll make sure I never get a date," Weiss muttered to himself. However, Sydney heard it, and it made her smile.  
  
Vaughn was always able to affect people in ways that were unforgettable, especially if it was related to her in any way.  
  
A man blocked her sight as he passed by and when Sydney looked up again, to try and relocate the operative, he was gone.   
  
She crept closer.   
  
No, he was still there. But behind the thick foliage the bushes created. There was a knife sticking out from his chest.  
  
She put two fingers against his neck, looking for the jugular. There was no pulse.  
  
He was dead.  
  
"Retriever, this is Mountaineer. We have a problem. Operative is dead."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I repeat. Operative is dead."  
  
"Is the disk still on him?"  
  
She search, but it was useless. His clothes have already been fumbled through.  
  
"Negative. Disk is gone."  
  
"Shit. How is base ops going to handle this?"  
  
Silence on her end. She failed. She was blocked for less than 20 seconds, and the disk was gone. But who else would want that disk? The CIA never expected another agency to be here. There should have been no competition.  
  
Two strong muscled arms came around and wrapped around her frame. One around her mouth to stop her from screaming, and in the process knocked out her com-link. The second arm went around her middle, trying to still her movements.   
  
All she knew was that it was a man, a man dressed all in black.  
  
~*~*~

  
September 29, 2005  
Munich, Germany  
English Gardens  
8:20 PM, local time  
  
_Keep it calm. Keep it calm,_ Sydney reminded herself. And in the next instant, she stomped the man on the foot, her heel digging into the hard leather. The man refused the budge, so she did it again, and instinctively, the man went off balance when her heel met the rapidly forming bruise on his toes. Before he could regain his equilibrium, Sydney performed a front snap kick to his torso, sending him doubling over. She was about to strike him again when the man reached out and blocked the kick. He grabbed her foot and twisted it, making her body follow through and fall on her back. He extended his hand, trying to help her up.  
  
"Mountaineer? What's going on? Are you okay?" she could hear Weiss bark over the com-link. He was panicking.  
  
_What is he doing? Is this some type of trick? Why didn't he kill me? Why isn't he reaching for his gun? I know he has one, on his ankle, and in his shoulder holster. He doesn't want to kill me. If he did, he would have. Why didn't he just knock me out? He could have then taken me to his boss… Why won't he speak?_ The sky had already turned into a dark blue a few hours ago, and the dense leaves of the trees surrounding them allowed little light to leak through. She could barely make out his form, but his eyes, she could see. They were a cold, crystal clear blue.  
  
"Mountaineer? Hello? State your situation!"  
  
She did a sweep, knocking the man's knees, making him fall to the ground. She did a back flip and landed on her feet. Once she was balanced, she saw that the man in black had done the same as well. She then ran up to him and did a combination: front snap, side thrust, roundhouse, hook kick, and a reverse punch. Feeling the force of each impact, the man fell against a tree, only to push off it and restrain the knee that would have met his groin. She inwardly laughed, _This man wants to see children in the future…_  
  
The man executed a quick roundhouse kick, one that she easily blocked.  
  
_This man is clearly more capable then this. He knew most of her ways of attacks. Why is he holding back? That was the first time he actually tried to attack her, other than holding her against his body. He had managed to repel most of her attacks, but never once tried to hurt her. Who was he?_  
  
"Who are you?" she managed to gasp in between breaths. Her breathing was a bit labored; her body was still in recovery from her attempts at suicide, and because she was not eating as much as had before. She was still missing him.   
  
She heard Weiss sigh, relieved that she was still all right.  
  
The man didn't answer.   
  
She tried a quick jab and a uppercut punch along side it. The man caught it; he didn't even blink, just kept staring into her eyes, trying to tell her something. Something that could only be told by the eyes, not by words.   
  
She was tiring.   
  
_Drip. Drip._  
  
The back of her dress was wet and sticky. _Blood,_ she slowly realized.   
  
She reached a hand up, and ran it along her back. It came back with red droplets smeared on her fingers.  
  
_When did this happen?_  
  
One look at the man's face, at his eyes… _The eyes… they're the window to the soul._… she could see that he was just as surprised. _Maybe this wasn't supposed to be what was happening… maybe this wasn't what he meant to do. When did he even touch my back? And with what? A knife?_ His blue eyes reflected the worry found in her own.  
  
"Mountaineer?"  
  
The man strode closer to her, lightly touching the deep cut on her back with his gloved hands. He checked it with a critical eye, almost clinical. His eyes were almost loving. His touch was that of a lover's. _What is going on? I was just fighting for my life against this man! Why is he trying to save me now?_  
  
"Mountaineer? Respond! Please! What's your status?!"  
  
For some reason, Sydney wasn't afraid anymore. Maybe this was how she was supposed to die. Maybe this is how she was going to be reunited with Vaughn. She was on a mission, in a beautiful park, wearing a beautiful dress. About to be murdered by a stranger. _But was it even murder?_  
  
The man suddenly ran off. Leaving her alone in the woods.   
  
"Retriever?"  
  
"Mountaineer! Thank god! I was about to call you the search team."  
  
"No. Don't do that. I think I'm fine. I will be fine. I don't know who the operative was. He disappeared."  
  
"He disappeared?"  
  
"Yeah. Hold on. Just let me rest a little, okay? I'll be back in at least 30."  
  
"Ok. See you back at base."  
  
She turned off the com-link. Now she just had to wait it out.   
  
_Footsteps._  
  
She tensed up.   
  
The man in black operative gear had returned. He gently lifted her sore body off the ground, placing her on his lap.   
  
_flashback  
  
"So the mission was a success?"  
  
"Yup, easy in and out. I got the false Intel to Sloane, and he accepted it as the real picture. And here is the real one."  
  
As she bent over, Vaughn spotted a large bruise on the small of her back.  
  
"Syd," his voice held a warning tone. "It wasn't an easy in and out. You're hurt."  
  
"It's nothing, Vaughn."  
  
"It is not nothing. It's huge and it's purplish blue! Stay still. Let me get the cold pack. It'll feel better sooner than later."  
  
She secretly loved it when he did this. Just to feel his hands on her back; it was soothing, calming. Something that she easily wanted to be familiar with.  
  
He came back and made her sit on a crate. Gingerly, he lowered the pack onto the bruise and put pressure on it. She flinched at the coldness.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"It's okay. Thank you for this."  
  
"It's my job. I need to take care of you."  
  
"Vaughn, you and I both know this isn't in your job description. So thank you for taking such good care of me."  
  
She leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek.  
  
end flashback_  
  
The man took out a shot of local anesthetic and gave it to her. She immediately felt the affects. The pain was gone, allowing him to give her more shots painlessly.   
  
He took out some alcohol and wiped out the dirt surrounding the wound. She must have hurt herself when she landed on the ground. Slowly, the wound started to clear up, allowing the man to suture the wound. He did so with loving ungloved hands. Gentle.   
  
_Who the hell was this man?_  
  
After he was done, he wrapped his arms around her, allowing warmth to seep back into her body.   
  
She turned to face him.  
  
"Thank you. But who are you?" she was beyond confused. She has never encountered a circumstance like this one.  
  
The man reached down and looped his finger through the necklace she was wearing. It was the necklace she had been wearing ever since he died. The white gold ring was always touching her skin, a reminder of what she had lost. He examined the ring thoroughly, as if he had seen it before.  
  
He abruptly whispered out, "Pour mon ange, mon amour," in a choked voice. An ungloved hand reached up and pushed some hair behind her ear.  
  
_That voice, that touch…it's haunted me for so long._  
  
"I love you, Syd." His lips touched her forehead. Her eyes widened. Chocolate eyes meeting blue eyes.  
  
"Vaughn?"  
  
~*~*~   
  
September 29, 2005  
Munich, Germany  
English Gardens  
8:47 PM, local time  
  
"Yeah, Syd?" he whispered, relishing her touch.  
  
"Blue eyes aren't becoming of you."  
  
He chuckled. Her eyes watered.   
  
"Take them out. Please," she wanted to see his eyes again. The ones she was so familiar with. The ones that took care of her, that knew her, that helped her, that loved her.   
  
"I can't," his lips grazed her.   
  
"Please," she murmured back, and finally kissed him. Warmth flooded though her body. Revitalizing her heart, her spirit, her mind. She felt it at her fingertips. It disseminated to her stomach, then her toes. He was there. With her. Her mind was still trying to twist around the fact. Desperately afraid that he would disappear, just like the other times when she thought she saw him, watching her from darkened corners. But his lips were on hers and he was solid under her hands. There was heat radiating from him, mingling with hers. He was alive.   
  
She knew she should be angry, screaming at him, asking him why he left, asking him why he would do such a thing to her. But she couldn't. All she felt was relief. The knowledge that he was alive, breathing, here with her, was overwhelming. All the more consuming.   
  
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer to him. He kissed her with the knowledge that he would have to say 'goodbye' again, so he memorized the moment. Burning itself into his memory so he could relive it again and again.  
  
Sydney's arms locked themselves around his neck, playing with his hair. After a few minutes, she had to step back, regain her air supply. Her lungs were burning, craving for air. _So this is what it's like to feel happiness again._   
  
"Okay."  
  
He released his hold on her, regretting it after the cool air took over the passionate heat from just a few precious seconds ago. He took out the blue contacts and flicked them away.  
  
"Hey," he whispered to her.  
  
Tears overflowed from her eyes. He gently brushed them away.  
  
"Hey." She snuggled her head under his chin. "Where have you been?"  
  
"I've been around."  
  
"It's omega-17 isn't it… that's why they had to make me believe you were dead." Her voice was quiet, tremulous.   
  
"I swear I didn't know they were coming that day, Syd."  
  
Beat.  
  
"You never used to lie to me Vaughn."  
  
He leaned in close and took her hand. He placed her hand behind his ear, and mouthed "com-link."  
  
Her eyes registered her understanding. She also knew that Vaughn would get in trouble for telling her what was going on.  
  
"I didn't even know what Anna was doing there. She wasn't working with us. But apparently the CIA took it as a good enough of a distraction. I heard her taunting you. She wasn't even in the room when the CIA 'shot' me."  
  
"Shh. Don't say anymore…please." She placed a finger over his lips.   
  
He gave her finger a gentle kiss. There were both content to just hold each other.  
  
_Flashback  
  
"They don't understand. There still is no living—there is no reason for me to live. Right now, I live to forget. I live this dream, a nightmare really. There is no place for me. I miss him way too much. I loved him. They," she gestured to all the agents out in the main room, "may all say that I will live through it, but as I sit here, I realize that what they say is not true. It never will be true. I will never find another. There is never going to be someone perfect enough, kind enough, gentle enough, loving enough. The faces that pass by, especially the males with their brown hair, all turn into his face. But when I blink, they disappear. Leaving the reality behind, taking the dream away. I will never find that degree of happiness again—not ever as happy as I was with him."  
  
She looked over at Dr. Barnett. Surprisingly enough, she had yet to interrupt.  
  
"This was just another mission, another chance to just disappear and live a new life, but I'm still not sure I'm ready for that. His face will always haunt me wherever I go. There is no hope."  
  
She paused. Recollecting her thoughts, putting them in an order that might make more sense.  
  
"And then I felt this random guy touch my shoulder, and if I pretended enough, it would be Vaughn's touch. All of a sudden, all of my memories of Vaughn collided, and then I realized that I couldn't complete the mission, and that an escape would be the best way out. Running away, and not coming back. But I still wouldn't be able to forget his memory. Escape his haunting presence. A ghost was always following, always watching. I felt his eyes, but whenever I turned around, he was never there. As invisible as he could be, hidden among the crowd, never letting me go. I kept telling myself that he was gone, forever, an eternity, but I always turned around. I always fell for it. Once I swore I saw his eyes, glittering emeralds lost among the crowd, but in a blink, they were gone. I just wish they would disappear sometimes. How I could disappear along with him and allow two souls to intertwine in the afterlife."   
  
End flashback_   
  
"Stop thinking, Syd. I can practically feel your mind going a mile a minute. Relax."  
  
"Weiss will be wondering where I am."  
  
A bubble of laughter came deep from his throat. "Too bad for him. He's gotten to see you everyday for a year and a half. I want my moment right now."  
  
Clinging to each other, Vaughn broke the silence. "Let's go dance."  
  
"Vaughn. They'll see you! We can't."  
  
"I don't care. I wanna dance with you."  
  
Sydney let herself be dragged out of the forest. A thought finally hit her.  
  
"Vaughn! What about the operative?"  
  
"Don't worry. My men have taken care of him. He'll be shipped back to his family."  
  
"And the information?"  
  
"I have it. Now, don't worry! Dance."  
  
He pulled her closer. They hadn't been able to let go of one another since Vaughn took out his contacts.  
  
The music flowed around them, surprisingly, not German music.  
  
_I could stay awake just to hear you breathin'  
Watch you smile while you are sleepin'  
While you're far away and dreamin'  
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender   
I could stay lost in this moment forever   
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure _  
  
They both realized the irony in the situation. Sydney was remembering the night she received the rose and lily. Vaughn was remembering that same night; watching his tears rain on her eyelids and travel down to her hair. And the letter that he had written, only to take it back with him a few hours later.  
  
_I don't wanna close my eyes   
I don't wanna fall asleep   
Cause I'd miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing   
Cause even when I dream of you   
The sweetest dream will never do   
I'd still miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing_  
  
He recalled his sleepless nights, wondering what she was doing. Wondering if she had decided to move on. They always led him back to the house he shared with her. Made him stand right outside the bedroom door and continue to watch over her. Sometimes he would have conversations with her, making them short and light; it was the only way to keep himself sane. It was a risk every time he did it, but he needed her so badly. If she was hurt though, he would have never forgiven himself. She was his everything. And if the very best part of himself was missing, that would mean that only the worst was left. He would have followed her then. No matter what the consequences.  
  
_Lying close to you feelin' your heart beatin'  
And I wonder what you're dreamin'  
Wonderin' if it's me you're seein'  
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together   
And I just wanna stay with you   
In this moment forever, forever and ever_  
  
She could feel his heart beating underneath his black ops clothes. She had to keep reminding herself that he was alive. A miracle that she couldn't understand. She wanted answers, but knew that now wasn't the time nor the place. Time was against them once again.   
  
He dropped his head and gave her a kiss on each eye. This was another moment that he was memorizing in his mind. If only it would go on forever. But he knew that they only had a few minutes left. Soon his team would be asking where he was. They might even cause a scene which he could not allow them to do. So he held her even closer, tucking her head under his chin, where she belonged.   
  
_I don't wanna close my eyes   
I don't wanna fall asleep   
Cause I'd miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing   
Cause even when I dream of you   
The sweetest dream will never do   
I'd still miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing_   
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. I'm great. Better than in a long time."  
  
"I missed you."  
  
"I know. I missed you more."  
  
_And I don't wanna miss one smile   
And I don't wanna miss one kiss   
Well, I just wanna be with you   
Right here with you, just like this   
I just wanna hold you close   
Feel your heart so close to mine   
And just stay here in this moment   
For all the rest of time_   
  
He wanted to know everything that he had missed. When he was with Alice, he had made Weiss promise to take care her if anything happened to him. But since Alice was now out of the picture, Weiss still promised to take care of Sydney if anything happened to him. And although he wouldn't completely regret going away, he regretted not being there for her. To be the shoulder to cry on. But then, if he hadn't gone, she wouldn't have been crying. They would be married, hopefully. Maybe even with a baby on the way.   
  
He slowed his heart beat, just so their heartbeat would be the same. Little things like that made him feel as if he had a closer connection to her.  
  
_Don't wanna close my eyes   
Don't wanna fall asleep   
Cause I'd miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing   
Cause even when I dream of you   
The sweetest dream will never do   
Cause I'd still miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing_   
  
The song was going to end so soon. If only he could make the song play forever, so he wouldn't have to leave her side. He captured her lips in his. All his thoughts left his mind. He had to make the most of this moment, and damn it, he was going to.  
  
_Je veux, je désire, je souhaite, et j'espère._   
  
_I don't wanna close my eyes   
I don't wanna fall asleep   
Cause I'd miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing   
Cause even when I dream of you   
The sweetest dream will never do   
I'd still miss you, baby   
And I don't wanna miss a thing   
  
Don't wanna close my eyes   
Don't wanna fall asleep, yeah   
I don't wanna miss a thing_  
  
"Sydney, I have to go."  
  
She knew that all good things had to end. And right now, they had to end it so that they would have a future.  
  
"I know."  
  
He looked at the ring on the chain. He briefly touched it, "I'll be back within 6 months. I promise," and he sealed it with a kiss.  
  
"Be careful." Tears were coming to her eyes again.   
  
"I'll be watching you." They couldn't help but chuckle at the remark.   
  
They both noticed a man that was rapidly approaching them.   
  
"Remember, I'll be back within 6 months. Je t'aime mon ange, mon amour."  
  
"Je t'aime."  
  
She watched him disappear among the crowds. Two jade eyes sparkled and blinked out.   
  
"Sydney!" relief was apparent in his voice, having found her after a thirty minute search.  
  
"Hi Weiss," she was calm, smiling even.  
  
"Who were you just with?" He had a questioning look in his eyes. Suspicious. She was alive again. Like before.   
  
"You saw him too. You know."  
  
"It couldn't have been."  
  
"It was. Now let's go home."  
  
As she started walking, she felt something slip down the inside of her dress. Her eyes widened.  
  
On the floor there was a letter. She pretended to trip, once she was on the floor, she picked it up.  
  
_My, my, my, Vaughn's getting good._  
  
~The End~

Epilogue is on it's way.


	16. epilogue

A/N: woohoo! now this has been an awesome ride   
  
thank you so much for reading. and thank you to **Demon** for betaing.  
  
~~ this is chatnoir putting everything off to update this fic.... hehe... finals this week... .... 3 essays due tomorrow .... have I even started? .

  
  
Thank you to:

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Brynne: lol… well… I have the worst time writing a mad Syd… so… she just had to be happy. :)

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valley-girl2(2) : hehe… I won't even comment about ff.net… if I do… you'll get a rambling of 3+ pages. Singled spaced. ;) lol. Well… now that the epilogue is actually finished… well… no… not really…. It really doesn't cover much. The fight scene is all Demon. She's great with that stuff. Thanks! I really don't find out that test score until tomorrow… and then, my final is on Thursday ::rolls eyes:: can I say how much I hate school right now? Hehe… two reviews! I feel honoured! Hehe… thanks for the birthday wish! It was actually Sunday, December 14 :) thanks for remembering!

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'sally': hmm.. first off… since it's still December 15th on the west coast… HAPPY BIRTHDAY (and hopefully it is… if you are 'sally' on the sd-1 boards ;) ) I'm glad you loved it :) haha… I want this story to end… isn't that sad? I still have like… 3 other WIPs to finish! 

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total vaughn lover: travelled to sd-1 recently? I reviewed there ;) 

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Lor: lol. Well… hopefully I got the French right in this last chapter because… well… if it isn't… ::blush:: 

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Epilogue  
  
April 17, 2005  
Los Angeles, California  
National Cemetery  
3:01 PM  
  
She trudged up the lone hill in the cemetery. It was a clear sunny day in Los Angeles, free from smog due to a surprise rain shower the day before. However, lament was like a fog in the air, clinging to every air molecule in the sky. Passing by every grave, she gave brief glances at the names and lowered her head in respect. Jonathan Love, Isabelle Bockman, James Levin, Lauren Reed, Michelle Marksburg. She stopped and kneeled down at the grave of Michael C. Vaughn. Her pant legs were beginning to soak the moisture in the dirt. Inscribed on the grave stone were the words _Beloved son and friend. Will always be loved in both life and death. Died for his country._ Simplistic words that only a handful would fully understand—words that grasped a deeper meaning.  
  
"It's been seven months, Vaughn."  
  
Tears were trickling down her deathly pale cheeks. "You promised you'd be here!" she screamed into the oppressing air.   
  
Whispering, "You promised you'd be here… you said six months… you promised it would only be six months." Her voice rose in a crescendo. "YOU PROMISED!"  
  
She stared out into the distance, collecting her rampant thoughts that have been building for nearly a month.  
  
"And I believed you. I believed you." A broken sob ripped itself out of her lungs.   
  
Trying to stop the flood of tears, she wiped her sleeve across her eyes. The make up was long gone after a night of drinking. Long gone were the promises she made so long ago of not self-destruction. They were gone, just like the promise he made to her. Lost in an instant. Just… gone.  
  
"Vaughn… I came here…" she breathed. "I came here to say good-bye."   
  
The letter he gave her seven months away was still tucked away in the deep caverns of her pocket. Reaching in, the crumpled letter shook in her hands. "I know you tried to explain everything you could in your letter… how you signed up for this project before you even met me… the reconnaissance mission…" She tried to stifle a hiccup. "How Devlin threatened you with treason and going against direct orders when you didn't want to… how everything was set up… how it was all last minute in your hotel room… how you didn't want to leave me…" She laughed a dry laugh full of bitterness. "And how Sark is actually deep cover MI-5 sent out with the same responsibilities you were…"  
  
"But why? Why didn't you come back? You promised… and you never break your promise… I'm worried, Vaughn. I know that the only reason you'd break a promise is if you can't go through with it… I'm worried that you aren't here anymore. And if you're not here, there's no one left to catch me when I fall. I can't live like this anymore…  
  
"I'm thirty years old, Vaughn. Today. I don't think I can do this anymore. It has been three decades of deceit, lies, treachery. My mother… Sloane… The scheme Sark put both of us through… making me believe that I miscarried when there wasn't a baby there to begin with… but rather that I diverting your attention from the mission so he had to come up with a way to make me hurt you… And goddamn it, I wanted that baby to be real and alive… Hell, my own father knew you were out there, and he still let me fall down. He let me destroy myself out of guilt and sorrow. He didn't care if his daughter had died. It's all for the country. But I don't believe in that anymore. I don't want to do it anymore… I have to move on. I have to leave this old life behind. I can't stay here with the memories.   
  
"And as much as I love you, I need to let you go. For two years, I've been chasing after this dream… almost killing myself in the process… I don't have that type of patience anymore. I can't help but feel that I've been cheated out of the good things in this life.  
  
"I love you so much… but this is really killing me. I'm moving away from LA. I've cleared it with Devlin. I'm leaving the agency and entering the Program. I don't want to live a life in which all the people I love are taken away. It has happened too often. My soul can only take so much… It's not strong anymore. It will never be strong again. You know why?"  
  
She began to trace the letters of his name on the stone. "You were my strength. And now you're gone."  
  
Her fingers were drubbing away the thin layer of dirt and dust that lay on the imprint of his name. She lay down the white roses in the flower jar next to his grave.  
  
"I need to go. Always remember that you have a part of me. And I promise you, I'll never forget the man who pulled me away from this life. I'll always love you."  
  
She dug a hole in the dirt on top of his grave. After twisting the white gold ring off her finger, she kissed it.   
  
"Good-bye, Vaughn."  
  
As the ring fell to the ground, she felt a presence behind her, as if a spirit was blowing away.   
  
"Leaving? And here I was, expecting a welcome home kiss."  
  
The voice startled her.   
  
"Weiss… I'm not in the mood for those types of games."  
  
Suddenly, she felt hands on her hips. Waiting her to turn around.  
  
Slowly, she turned. Fingers wiped away the tear tracks on her face. "Please tell me I'm dreaming, and never let me wake up?" She captured his lips in hers.   
  
Only to draw back… "This is about when I'm supposed to wake up." Ten seconds passed. She reached a hand up and brought it around his neck. "Oh my god… you're real."  
  
He pressed his lips against hers again. "Je t'aime mon ange. Je suis désole que je suis en retard."  
  
"Welcome home, Vaughn."  
  
~the end~  
  
(FINALLY!)  
  
  
  
Wraith: April 23, 2003- December 15, 2003


End file.
